Life's Inspiration
by msTGR
Summary: How would Castle go about Beckett if they had met a year earlier? Do all the roads lead to the same destination? The recently divorced writer just launched his latest Storm novel, but can't seem to find the motivation to continue writing his successful series. That is, until he ends up meeting the beautiful and savvy NYPD detective. (A sort of "what if")
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: This is a result of an idea I got stuck in my mind. It's essentially Castle we know and love, but maybe a year before and, mostly, with one difference: what if Castle hadn't pushed so early to start following Beckett around?**_

_**I should warn you that, so far, all proofreading is done myself. As a result, a lot of misspellings and other errors are bound to be found just lying around.**_

* * *

Richard Castle had concluded his reading of a riveting couple of chapters of _Storm's Last Stand_, his latest Derrick Storm's release, and then had started his signing duties, in the first publicity event open to the general public. The book's official launch party on the previous Friday was a complete success, and Rick's agent, publicist and publisher were all ecstatic with all the positive reviews on his newest work and the as well as the media attention the author was receiving.

As Rick continued signing copies of his book for his fans attending the event – many of which were overly eager young women (and he couldn't say he was disappointed with all the flirting coming his way), his hand was almost cramping after repeatedly writing for nearly two hours nonstop. Briefly glimpsing over to his agent, who was standing behind him to his right, he turned back to the fan in front of him sure that Paula Hass had gotten his message. Rick was not disappointed when, as soon as he finished signing his name with a flourish on the inside cover of the book in his hand, Paula held up his next fan in line and arranged for him to take a short break. Rising from his chair, Rick glanced apologetically to the fan –a seriously curvaceous blonde wearing a tight fit red dress – and walked a few yards away alongside his skillful agent. He was glad that, at least this one time, his publisher and soon to be ex-wife was not coordinating this signing event.

Upon returning to the signing desk 20 minutes later, he noticed that the line had shrunken considerably and that his first fan in line was now an older man wearing a 'I-heart-Castle' t-shirt. Putting on the same dazzling smile he showed to his bimbo fans (no one could accuse him of favoring any followers), he asked the man whom he should make the dedication out to and went on with his signing as if nothing was unsettling about this scene.

As soon as the disturbing older man left – not without first taking a picture right next to his "favorite handsome author" – Rick noticed that the full-bosomed blonde who had been standing in line before he took his break had returned and was talking to his agent, trying to convince Paula to let her get her book signed without having to go to the end of the line; apparently, she had stepped out just a few minutes earlier to use the toilet and did not think it was fair to lose her chance at meeting "the sexiest author in Manhattan" simply due to a full bladder.

Before Rick had a chance to address his next fan in line, said fan – a sharply dressed and attractive brunette, he noticed – turned to his agent, who was at the verge of dragging the buxom fan to the end of the line by her hair, and told her the blonde could get her book signed ahead of her. Crisis averted, the bimbette was all smiles and touches with Rick, leaning over the table to grant him a better view down her cleavage as he signed her book, and leaving without so much as a glance toward the brunette fan who made it all possible for her. Shaking his head as he tried to stifle his laughter, Rick took a deep breath and then smiled as he called on the brunette fan.

"Hi there. What's your name?"

"Kate." The stunning young brunette replied, smiling back at him. He noticed that, although her smile was beautiful, in no way it carried the flirtyness he expected.

"Well, Kate, do you want me to write anything specific for you? I'd be glad to comply with your wishes." His smile grew sexier at that.

Trying her best to hide the amusement at his blatant flirting from her own smile, she swiftly retorted, "No special requests, Mr. Castle. Just write what you feel like will fit best."

A bit disappointed, he replied, "All right." He directed his attention at her copy of _Storm's Last Stand_ and wrote his dedication. Handing her the book, he spoke up. "There you go. And by the way, on behalf of the nice lady who just left, thank you for letting her get her book signed ahead of you."

At this, she openly laughed. "No problem. Wouldn't want to keep you from meeting your true fangirls." Taking the book from his hand, she addressed his stunned face. "Thank you, Mr. Castle. Have a great night."

"Good night!" He said as he faced her retreating back. "And thank you for coming!"

Smiling with mirth to himself, he quickly turned to his next fan and carried on with his signing, hoping that the 50 minutes he had left would suffice to attend to close to 80 fans left in line.

* * *

Pulling out her mobile as she left the Barnes & Noble store, Kate Beckett quickly dialed her boyfriend's phone. "Hey," she said when he picked up. "I'm leaving the store now. Do you want me to meet you at the movies or are you still at work?"

"Neither," she heard him reply and the line went dead. Staring at her phone confused, she barely had time to register the voice coming from behind her. "I would never have you meet me at our destination when I can simply be a gentleman and come pick you up."

Smiling at his chivalry, she turned to give Will Sorensen a kiss. "Hi."

"Hi." He smiled back. "So, how was the signing? Did you turn to puddle at his feet? Should I be jealous?"

Her smile grew wider. "No turning to puddle. He has enough fangirls to do that for him." She kissed him again. "No reason to be jealous, Will. Although he is much more handsome than you, there is no way I could have a chance with him." At his bothered expression, she laughed. "Relax, I'm just pulling your leg. You know there is nothing to be worried about."

"Hmm," he murmured before kissing her yet again. "I know." Pointing at the book in Kate's hand, he asked, "What did he write to you?"

"I haven't seen yet," she told him. Opening the book, she read the dedication to herself for a second and, sensing Will trying to peek at it from over her left shoulder, she read the message out loud. "To Kate. That you continue to dazzle the world with your beautiful smile. And that my books bring you enough entertainment and reassurance to contribute to your happiness. Rick Castle."

After a moment of silence, Will couldn't help but ask, "Did you tell him about your mother?"

"No," she replied, somewhat perplexed. "I didn't tell him anything."

After another moment of silently staring at the dedication, Kate closed the book and put it in her Michael Kors handbag. Turning once again to her companion, she plastered her face with a smile to prevent Will from noticing her confused thoughts. "Shall we?"

"We shall." He smiled at her and, taking her hand, walked off in the direction of the 14th Street-Union Square subway station.

But Kate's mind was suddenly a long way from her plans with her boyfriend for this evening.

* * *

A few weeks later, as she looked over the young female's body positioned on its back over a table, modestly covered by red rose petals and eyes invisible behind two sunflowers, she suddenly realized why this scene seemed so familiar to her.

"Flowers for your grave…" Detectives Kevin Ryan and Javier Esposito, who were standing somewhere near Beckett, heard her mutter under her breath.

"What?" Ryan asked her.

"This body," she started explained. "It's laid out exactly as a murder victim in _Flowers for Your Grave_."

"Come again?" It was Esposito's turn to ask.

"The book," Beckett tried again. Sighing once she noted they didn't get the meaning, she spoke again, annoyed. "Don't you guys read?" And then, she concluded. "This scene was staged as the murders depicted in _Flowers for Your Grave_. It's a book written by Richard Castle." Pausing, she then added, "And we will probably need to bring him in for questioning."

* * *

_**TBC**_

**_(All characters, the homicide case plotline and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: You guys… thank you all for the reception to this story. It means more than I can ever say.**_

_**This chapter also kind of sets the mood for the story. Hope you like it. And, once again, I apologize in advance for any misspellings and other errors in this.**_

* * *

He stared at the blinking cursor mocking him at the top of the blank page.

Rick Castle was at a loss. Writing had always been his constant, something to help him and make him feel accomplished with his life. Of course after his daughter's birth, he could add Alexis to his short yet cherished list of life blessings, but his career was the one thing he consciously pursued and, therefore, his success as a mystery novelist was the one thing he was truly responsible for. Yet, at this time, his writing was failing him.

Rick could not for the life of him find motivation to continue writing. Nevermind that _Storm's Last Stand_ was currently a bestseller in every possible list published; the fact remained that he was no longer inspired to go on with his Derrick Storm series.

So, as it had been happening for the past eight weeks, he once again sat quietly, almost dejectedly, staring at the blank document on his laptop screen.

He had managed to write two chapters so far. TWO. He was supposed to have finished a draft manuscript for the first TEN chapters seven weeks ago. His publisher was going to kill him.

Rick sighed. Shutting down his notebook as he rose from his chair, he decided on getting a cup of coffee before heading to his en-suite bathroom to take a shower. On top of everything, he had a meeting in a couple of hours with a whole bunch of lawyers to finalize his divorce.

At least Gina Griffin-Castle would soon go from being a blood-sucking wife and publisher back to being simply Gina Griffin, his blood-sucking publisher.

* * *

Looking at Gina once all papers were duly signed, Rick felt a strange feeling of resignedness inside. No matter the reasons for their separation, facing his second divorce before he was even forty brought on a sense of failure that Rick did not appreciate. He had really hoped this marriage would work.

Wearing the same disappointed smile he was sure he had on his face, Gina addressed her now ex-husband, "At least we had our moments, huh?"

"That we did." He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Too bad those moments didn't stick throughout the marriage." At her quiet chuckle, he looked in her eyes. "Work will be the same, right?"

"Oh, you can count on it." She countered. "In fact, I expected you to have already delivered your manuscript for the next Storm novel, Ricky." She finished, using the pet name he knew she reserved for the times she was patronizing him over his professional responsibilities.

"Well, you can't rush genius," He grinned somewhat arrogantly.

"Genius, huh?" She grinned back at him, just as arrogantly. "Try blockage, Honey. Remember, if you don't meet your deadlines, Black Pawn might just demand you return your advance."

"I already returned it, Gina. I just spent it divorcing you." He announced, smirking insolently.

She chuckled as she turned to leave. "Yeah, well, if you have to return the same amount to Black Pawn as well, you might end up out of your millionaire status. And when the money is gone, Don Juan, the bimbo fangirls are gone as well." She narrowed her eyes in a playful manner. "And then it will be that much harder to be a playboy gallivanting all over town."

He accepted her acid nudge and turned to leave as well. "And on that note, I'll let you be. I have to go meet the girl of my dreams." He gave her a peck on the cheek. "Bye, Gina."

"Bye, Rick." She smiled sweetly at him, no hint of their banter in her voice anymore. "Say hi to Alexis for me."

* * *

"Dad!" Alexis called out, pleasantly surprised, running to where her father was standing outside her school and leaving her friends with a quick 'bye' a few steps behind. "What are you doing here?!"

"What, you're too old now for your old man to come pick you up?" Rick told her as he accepted her hug and kissed her forehead.

"Never." The 14 year-old replied, kissing his shoulder. "I'm just surprised to see you here."

"Yeah, I was already out and thought I'd come pick you up." Grinning conspiratorially, he added, "Now that I'm officially a bachelor once again, maybe I'll find me some of those hot single moms who lie in wait around your school."

"Ew, Dad!" The teen replied, friendly slapping her father on the same shoulder she had planted a kiss just a few moments earlier. As her father chuckled, she asked, "So, the divorce is final?"

"Yep." Putting his right arm around his daughter and guiding her as he started walking around the corner, Rick hoped to catch any available cab driving by the intersection. As they walked, he heard a pretty brunette – Bridget Thomas, he noticed, who he knew was the recently divorced mother to one of Alexis' classmates – throw a sultry 'Hi, Rick' in his direction, accompanied by an alluring smile. Grinning back at her, he nodded a 'Hi, Bridget' back as he continued his pacing along with his daughter in his arm.

Bending slightly to reach Alexis's left ear, he whispered, "See? It's working already!"

"Dad!" She playfully scolded him.

* * *

Walking towards their building chatting amicably about nothing in particular, Rick and Alexis caught a glimpse of an older redhead lady wearing a leopard-print chemise and black leggings just as she crossed the threshold directing their doorman inside the building with a suitcase. Glancing at each other, they took the last twenty or so steps separating themselves from their lobby, only to be faced by said doorman – Eduardo – standing alone.

Eduardo greeted them with a polite smile. "Good afternoon, Mr. Castle – and Ms. Castle. Ms. Rodgers just went up to your unit, Sir."

"Hi, Eduardo," Rick greeted. Although his tone was just as polite as ever, his voice did not carry his usual cheerfulness. "'Ms. Rodgers' went up already, huh?" Then, mostly to himself, he added, "Figures she would be able to convince you."

"Excuse me, Sir?" Eduardo could not make out Castle's words.

Shaking his head, Rick spoke up. "Nevermind, Eduardo." Already walking towards the elevators with his daughter, he finished, "Thank you for the heads up."

"Why is Grams here, Dad?" Alexis questioned in a low voice, stepping into the lift as soon as the doors opened.

"I have no idea, Pumpkin." Before he had a chance to muse his thoughts as the elevator came to a stop on their floor and the doors opened, he was faced with his flamboyant mother standing outside his door.

"Richard, darling!" Martha Rodgers loudly greeted. "And Alexis! Aren't you two a sight for sore eyes."

"Hi, Grams," Alexis was the first to greet her grandmother, giving her a hug as her father stood behind her, waiting.

"Mother," Rick punctuated his greeting with a kiss to his mother's left cheek once Alexis had stepped out of their embrace. Unlocking his door, he spoke, "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but what are you doing here? And why all the suitcases?"

As the three of them entered the loft, each carrying a piece of luggage Martha had brought with her, the older woman replied, "The time has come to part ways with Walter." At her granddaughter's downcast eyes, Martha continued. "Nothing to be sorry about, Kiddo. No need for a pity party. Although there is a need for family support for a while."

"Mother?" Rick inquired as he shut the door, already afraid of where this was heading.

"Well, Walter and I had no boundaries of any sort. That goes for money as well." Noticing the eerie look on her son's face, she continued. "Yes, well, as soon as he went through all of his share, mine soon joined the list of bad investments he made. But not to worry, he managed to save a few bucks for himself before he snuck out."

"I'm so sorry, Grams." Alexis hugged her grandmother. "What are you going to do? Do you think the police can help?"

"Well, I don't think there is much they can do, Kiddo. He was in a way entitled to use the all the money he burned. Now, I'm going to sign the divorce papers he left in the kitchen table and move on with my life." Looking up at her son, she added, "And hopefully you'll let me stay with you until I get back on my own feet."

"Of course, Mother." Rick put his arms around both his mother and daughter. "That's what family is for." Letting them go, he continued. "But you have to promise not to interfere with my work. That means no joining forces with Gina and no using my office for your own activities."

"Why, whatever do you mean?" At his scoff, she changed the subject. "And how is Gina?"

"I would think richer, considering the divorce settlement she obtained today." He said, sarcastically.

"Oh well, maybe next time you'll think better before you go on marrying someone."

He looked pointedly at his mother. "Please tell me you see the irony in that."

Alexis chuckled and hugged the older woman. "Well, Grams, I am glad you're here. And I'm sure Dad feels the same way. He's always complaining that his life has become too predictable," She joked.

"Yeah, this was not the novelty I had in mind." He threw back. "And let's see how you feel after she invites half of Manhattan to a party in our living room." Rick told his teenage daughter as we walked toward the refrigerator to get a can of whipped cream. As soon as he had finished speaking, the doorbell rang. "Already, Mother?" He grinned acidly and Alexis threw him a look as she turned to open the door.

Staring at the person who she had never seen before standing in the hallway, the teen politely asked, "May I help you?"

"Hello." The unknown brunette greeted her. "Is Richard Castle in?"

Turning around to call her father, Alexis noticed he was already at her side, with a flirtatious smile on his lips. "Hi there. Rick Castle," he stuck his hand out. "What can I do for you?"

Shaking his hand but ignoring the flirtatiousness in his voice, the brunette spoke up. "Mr. Castle, I'm Detective Kate Beckett with the NYPD. I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding a murder that took place last night."

Rick stood at his door puzzled, only coming out of his stupor when he heard his daughter speak next to him, "This more of your kind of novelty, Dad?"

* * *

_**TBC**_

**_(All characters, the homicide case plotline and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: This chapter is a bit longer, but then again I think most chapters from now on will probably be at least this long... Also, please note that while some lines are pretty much the same as in the pilot, this is only to draw a parallel. Sometimes the same situations will have different outcomes – and that's sort of the point here, otherwise there would be no sense in writing this fanfic ;-)**_

_**Please let me know if you have any comments, suggestions or simply if you like it (or don't). Any review, good or bad, is greatly appreciated!**_

* * *

"What can you tell me about the murder?" Rick asked as soon as Detective Beckett and he stepped out of his building in direction to the unmarked police issued Ford Crown Victoria parked a few yards away from his building. He had left Alexis with his mother in the loft – or maybe he had left his Mother with Alexis… it really depended on which way he looked at it.

"In here? Nothing." She stared at him solemnly, going around the car to the driver's door. "At the station? I'll let you know everything I want you to know."

"Oh, come on! Really?"

Beckett barely managed to stop her eyes from rolling at the writer's childish antics simply because she had neglected him information on the case. As she reached the right front door, she noticed he was staring at her with a curious look on his face while he stood anxiously by the front door on the left side of the vehicle, waiting for her to unlock the doors so he could be let in the car.

"You can get in the back seat," She told him as she put the car key in her door's lock to manually unlock all doors.

"Why?" He complained, with a wary expression. "I'm not under arrest, am I?"

"You're not under arrest, Mr. Castle, but I'm taking you in for questioning and it's protocol that you sit in the back of the cruiser." She stared at the author until he was intimidated enough to get inside the car, sitting in the back seat. Then, climbing into the driver's seat, she added, "Plus, I got this feeling that having you in the front with me would be as annoying as if you were an 8 year-old boy on his way to the amusement park for the first time."

Smirking, he quipped, "Well, I'm all man. You can check for yourself if you'd like."

Rick could see the female Detective roll her eyes in the rearview mirror this time while she settled in her seat and started the car in silence.

No sooner had Beckett started driving around the streets of Lower Manhattan away from his building and towards the 12th Precinct than she felt his eyes on her again, expressing the same curiosity she had seen on his face before they entered the car. Annoyed, she kept looking ahead. "What?"

He quickly refocused his eyes, amused that he had been caught staring. "Nothing."

Noticing that Detective Beckett was no longer looking at him in the rearview mirror, he once again started watching the brunette cop. Rick had the feeling – and his feelings almost never failed him – that he had met this woman before, and he was racking his brain trying to figure out where he could have encountered her in the past. Before he could catch himself, he once more began openly staring at the right side of her face – the only part of her he could get a glimpse at from their current position –, and suddenly he was startled when the Detective, who hadn't taken her eyes off the street for even a second, berated him for 'creepily watching her' and told him to stop being weird and just be quiet.

After that, Rick had alternated between looking out through the car window to the slowly passing restaurants and stores and sneaking a peek at the beautiful Detective as she concentrated on steering the car, a guarded look plastering her face. She noticed he had managed to remain inconspicuous for about ten minutes, which in current New York rush hour traffic didn't afford them a whole lot of miles of travel – she was thankful that the station was close enough for them to reach their destination in a couple of minutes –, before he gave up the pretense of watching the scenery and focused his eyes on his driver solely yet again. She didn't know what he was thinking about, but she could feel the wheels turning in the writer's overactive mind.

Upon hearing her sigh – a sound so small that he probably wouldn't have noticed had he not been paying close attention to the cop –, the author looked away, attempting to pretend he hadn't been watching her intently as he searched his brains for the reason to why her face seemed familiar to him.

"What?" There was no denying the exasperation in Detective Beckett's voice.

Ok, so he had been caught.

Perching forward on the car seat, Rick noticed the way Beckett's eyes fleeted in his direction before he spoke. "Have we met before?" He posed his question to the brunette's right cheek.

"What?" She said again, but this time her voice was laced with surprise. Managing another swift glance in his direction, she quickly added, "No."

Sensing her discomfort, although he could not pinpoint the reason for it, he tried again. "Are you sure? I'm not usually wrong about this kind of thing."

"What thing?" Kate asked, furrowing her eyebrows as nonchalantly as she could manage and hoping to everything she believed in that the slight excitement she felt inside at his remembering her face – even if he didn't know the reason why he recognized her – did not spill out with her question.

"Remembering faces," He took the words right out of her mind.

"I'm pretty sure we've never been introduced, Mr. Castle." She tried her best to look impassive. There was no chance the Detective would let playboy Rick Castle, a person of interest in her investigation, know she was a fan of his, especially if doing so would cause her to admit she had spent hours in line to get his latest book signed.

"Please, call me Rick." He graced her with an annoyingly cute grin. "And I'm pretty sure we have met before – there is no way I would forget someone as stunning as you."

Frustrated with him (and, honestly, with herself, for being affected by his blatant and cheap flirting), she parked the car in front of the 12th Precinct before she replied, hoping he wouldn't call her bluff, "As I said, _Mr. Castle_, we haven't met." After she had killed the engine, she turned around to face him in the backseat, with a devious gleam in her eyes. "Not unless I've arrested you before." She hoped this would shut him up.

All too satisfied with his rap sheet, he announced, "If you haven't been a homicide detective for your entire career in law enforcement – which I'm sure you haven't –, then that would certainly be a possibility."

She raised her eyes at him in disapproval and merely got out of the car, walking around it and opening the right back door for him to get out. "Please follow me, Mr. Castle."

He stepped out of the cruiser, smirking at her, and then followed the Detective inside the police station, keeping his eyes trained on her, observing the way she unwittingly commanded attention inside the precinct, the way her hips moved with the subtle bounce that accompanied each stride she took. She was an authoritative woman, he could tell, and no one could deny how beautiful she was.

Rick could not help but wonder what a woman like that could do to him in bed.

He continued following her, this time to the elevator, watching her while she remained facing the closed doors on the way up, chewing her bottom lip. He wanted to watch her every move, but also wanted to get a rise out of her. "You have beautiful lips, you know that?"

She just shot him a censoring look, though he noticed a faint blush taint her cheeks (or so he hoped), and walked out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened. "Please accompany this officer to the interrogation room, Mr. Castle," Beckett told him, gesturing to the male police officer who had been sitting at the desk closest to the elevator. Then, she directed her words to the uniform. "Put him in Two, ok? I'll be right there." At the officer's nod, she thanked him and started walking towards the bullpen.

Not being someone known for obeying orders quietly, Castle grinned and raised his voice just enough to get her attention – and that of a few officers hanging around. "So you still won't tell me about the murder?"

He watched in triumph as she stopped walking, took a deep breath (he was sure she had her eyes closed for the three seconds she must have been silently counting in her head as well) and then sauntered into the bullpen ignoring his words. Only then he accepted his escort into interrogation room two.

After spending a few minutes talking to Detectives Ryan and Esposito to learn about Richard Castle's record with the NYPD, Beckett walked to the break room to get herself a coffee and try her best to calm her beating heart. She still could not believe she was going to interrogate one of her favorite authors.

Oh, who was she kidding? He _was_ her favorite author! Rick Castle was a great writer, and she found his stories were always spellbinding (granted, his earlier works were not the best books ever written, but still…) and, on top of it all, he was probably the sexiest novelist alive.

Before she knew it, she was fangirling all over again.

It was Richard Freaking Castle!

She had felt like a regular fan at the signing event she attended the previous month, but at least then she had prepared herself to meet the author. She knew then that she would not get to talk to him for longer than a couple of minutes, and that he would act his best to be charming to all his fans – just like the papers said he always did. Also, back at the signing she didn't have to act professionally, even though she was proud to say she managed to keep her fangirl instincts to a minimum.

But now, she was expected to be a serious New York Police Detective, not some stupid groupie. And no matter how long she had spent telling herself to calm down before she went and picked him up at his apartment, now he had more time with her to try and charm her barriers down… her professional and personal sides were definitely not getting along well at the moment.

At least his childish egotistical behavior so far had been enough to keep her silly attraction to him to a minimum.

She felt herself calming down at that. Taking the last gulp of her coffee, she mentally chanted that he was just a regular guy. Just like any other person of interest in any investigation. There, that's more like it. Just Mr. Richard Castle.

That's it.

Once she had finally felt ready to go in, Detective Beckett marched out of the break room and into interrogation room two, leaving star struck Kate behind in her wake. The door hadn't even closed behind her before she directed her first words at him. "Well, Mr. Castle, you weren't lying about your background before – you've got quite a rap sheet for a bestselling author: disorderly conduct, resisting arrest –"

He interrupted her with a sheepish smile and a small shrug. "Boys will be boys."

She continued reading the file in her hands, "…stealing a police horse –"

"Uh, borrowing." He corrected her.

"…while you were nude, it seems." She looked up at him at that, raising her eyebrows in question.

"It was spring," He said, as if that certainly answered everything.

"Of course." Suddenly, his shameful act didn't seem too sincere to her. Sitting across from him at the table, she narrowed her eyes but kept a smirk of her lips. "And every time the charges were dropped."

"What can I say? The mayor is a fan." He leaned over to her and spoke, leering. "But if it makes you feel any better, I'd be happy to let you spank me."

She brought her face a few inches closer to his. "Mr. Castle, this whole bad-boy charm thing that you've got going might work for bimbettes and celebutantes. Me? I work for a living. So, that makes you one of two things in my world: either the guy who makes my life easier or the guy who makes my life harder. And trust me, you do not want to be the guy who makes my life harder. Got it?"

That seemed to sober him up, if only a bit. "Okay."

Beckett continued with her interrogation, feeling more comfortable with the situation each question she got to ask, as if she were a wild animal who had been caged for years and now had finally been given the chance to return to its natural habitat. She found that Castle was being surprisingly cooperative, even if he still managed to throw a few innuendos here and there. He even agreed to make all of his fan mail available to the NYPD for inspection. That is, provided he got to help on the case.

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, if this guy is copying my books I'd like to find out why."

"There's no need for you to be here with us for that, Mr. Castle –"

"Please, call me Rick," he cut her off once again.

"We'll let you know as soon as we arrest the person responsible for this."

"I'm sure you will. I'd just like to be here when it happens."

Beckett sighed. "Well, I'd have to talk to my Captain –"

"I can wait." He interrupted. Again.

"…but I'll see what I can do for you," she told him, looking straight into his eyes. She never made a promise she didn't intend on keeping.

For the first time during the entire interrogation, he kept quiet, simply staring back into his eyes. "Do you know you have gorgeous eyes?"

She immediately broke eye contact with him, lowering her face to stare at the table, suddenly shy. Of all the things he had said to her so far, for some reason that was the one thing that brought an actual blush to her face.

Of course he noticed it. And, in return, that brought a smile to his face.

She got up from the table without replying to his compliment, intent on seeing her Captain about Castle's request, but he interrupted her just as she was about to leave the room.

"Are you certain we haven't met before?" Watching her exasperated frown at being asked this same question over and over, he was quick to continue, "I'm sorry I keep asking this, but this has been plaguing me since you picked me up at the loft." He took a small breath before continuing. "It's just that, I can't help but feel that I've seen you before. And not because you could have arrested me." Then, with the most alluring grin he could manage, he added, "And certainly – albeit, unfortunately – not because I've met you in a more intimate way."

Against her better judgment, she felt his words and smile affect her. Trying to temper her reaction and hoping to appease him at the same time, she replied, "Maybe we've just crossed paths before somewhere in the city." And with that she left the interrogation room.

Pursing his lips, he got up from the table and murmured to himself. "May be."

He then stepped out of the interrogation room and, just as he did so, he saw the beautiful Detective already talking to an older man – probably the Captain in the Homicide Division. Rick looked around for a while, taking in everything all information he could (a white board, a couple of male Detectives who kept staring at him funny, a lot of people walking around and group of younger female officers who were giggling to his far right), until he saw Beckett walking back in his direction.

"Well, Captain Montgomery says that, given the circumstances of these murders, your assistance could actually prove to be a valuable asset to us. So, you're in. Unofficially, of course." Although she didn't seem that upset about all this, the tone in her voice did not carry a whole lot of happiness, either.

His voice, on the other hand, was laced with plenty of cheerfulness for the both of them. "Great!" He beamed. "I'll bring you the letters first thing in the morning."

"Thank you, Castle."

He smiled internally at the small concession she made by dropping the 'Mr.', at least. He extended his hand to her. "Until tomorrow, Detective."

After a beat, she shook his hand with an almost imperceptible smile. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

**_TBC_**

**_(All characters, the homicide case plotline and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: I'd like to thank every single person who has reviewed, followed and favorited this story so far.**_

_**Most of you don't know this (trust me, I didn't think of this before I started writing either), but it means a lot to a fanfic author to know that people are reading and, hopefully, enjoying their small "work of art". So, don't be shy and let me know what you think (it doesn't matter if it's just one word on a long rant, or even if it's a criticism – with any luck, a constructive one).**_

_**Off to the next chapter. This one is even a bit longer than the previous one. Hope you like it!**_

* * *

Later in the evening, Kate had left the precinct and headed straight to her apartment, determined to have some alone time for herself. Since Will had left the city a few days ago to attend an FBI conference in DC, his girlfriend was determined to enjoy herself without him, alternating quiet nights at home and fun companionable outings with her colleagues and friends. And even though Kevin and Javi had invited her to have a few beers with them, all she really wanted tonight was to treat herself to a long bath, a glass of wine and a few more chapters of _Storm's Last Stand_. She was a bit bothered that she had bought that book over a month before and still hadn't gotten around to finishing.

After she had been in the bathtub long enough to read four chapters, finish two glasses of wine and feel her toes turn to prunes, Kate ended her bath and leisurely readied herself to bed, going over her thirty-minute long beauty ritual reserved for the evenings she had enough time for herself. She then set her alarm for the next morning, turned out the lights and got settled in her bed, just as she heard her phone ring on the bedside table. Picking up the mobile, she answered with a smile when she identified the caller. "Hey."

"Hey. Did I wake you?" Her boyfriend asked.

"No. I was just getting ready to sleep, though. How is your conference going?"

"Mostly boring," Will snorted. "But some things are going well."

"That's nice." Kate answered with a tired smile. "You're still coming back on Friday?"

"Actually, tomorrow. And I was thinking, maybe we could go to dinner then?"

"Sure." She grinned. "What's the occasion?"

"Well, there's something I'd like to talk to you about, and I want to do it somewhere more special than on the couch in my living room."

Her breath caught in her throat a bit. "Can you give me a hint?"

"You'll find out tomorrow."

She could hear him smirking over the phone line. "You know how I feel about surprises, Will."

He then chuckled. "Hopefully, you'll see it as a good surprise. I'll make reservations for us somewhere nice. Pick you up at the precinct at eight? Don't forget to bring a pretty dress to work."

"I won't," She rolled her eyes. "And I'll be ready for you at eight."

"Great! It's a date." Will smiled before continuing. "Well, I'll let you sleep then. Love you."

"You too," She replied. "Good night."

* * *

Needless to say, she wasn't ready at eight the next evening.

She had gotten to the precinct that morning hoping that Castle's fan mail (which hadn't been there yet when she had walked in) could provide them with a lead – _any lead_ – to who was responsible for the two murders under investigation. Unfortunately, she hadn't even managed to fill her mug with some of the coffee available in the Homicide floor's break room before Esposito had hollered from his desk informing her of yet another murder, which had taken place a few miles away from the second victim's crime scene. And then, not even ten minutes past eight a.m., she had already been picking up her things again and walking towards the elevator.

As soon as the elevator doors had opened, she had come face to face with Richard Castle and a couple of uniforms, all carrying some heavy-looking boxes (although the single one in Castle's hands looked the lightest of them all), stuffed with correspondence addressed to the 'master of the macabre', as the author himself had announced. Of course, when he had learned of the third murder, Rick hadn't even blinked before handing the box he had been carrying to the officer to his right and stating that he would love to shadow the female detective to this crime scene. Nonetheless, Ryan and Esposito, who had been standing behind Becket, had noticed that the smile which had already been adorning the writer's face since the elevator doors had opened and presented Beckett to his eyes had somehow grew wider.

At first, Beckett had believed that spending time with her favorite author would make it difficult for her to resist the seductive pull his presence held. Nevertheless, as the morning had gone by, it had seemed all Beckett would be trying to resist this time was her instincts to yank Castle's ear off his head. The novelist had been extra childish today, and even if the detective had been trying her best to ignore him, she had soon learned that overlooking Richard Castle was not an easy feature.

First, during the car ride, the writer had not been able to stay still – he had touched the radio, asked her about her evening, cracked jokes and pretty much done anything in his power to entertain himself, which had also had the effect of annoying Beckett out of her mind. Then, at the crime scene, Castle had disrespected her orders by walking around the place, talking to the medical examiner – actually, she had thought about mauling Lanie as well for indulging the author – and pretty much disrupting the peace she had required to work the scene. After that, the novelist had joined Beckett, Esposito and Ryan in a small Italian restaurant a couple of blocks away from the precinct for an early lunch and, by then, the female detective had thought she couldn't stand anymore of Castle's disturbance. The more he had talked and jested with the boys, the more Beckett had retreated from the conversation. She had believed that, despite his silly behavior the day before and at the book signing, the writer was a man who deserved her admiration; but all the time she had spent with him so far had only served to make her feel somewhat disappointed in him.

It hadn't mattered to her that he apparently was an immature spoiled man who had been trying really hard to get under her skin; of course that irritated her to no end, but, oddly enough, she had also been a little amused by this (not that he would ever find out that she apparently was a bit of a masochist). No, his manners towards her hadn't been the real issue. What had actually bothered was the way he had shown no respect for the victims or their families.

She had felt betrayed, somehow. Betrayed by this man, who had been writing those mystery novels which had contributed to the little peace of mind she felt over her mother's murder. Betrayed that he was the same man who apparently did not care one bit for justice and closure – things he actually wrote about in his own books.

By the time they had gone back to precinct after lunch and had been going over the novelist's fan mail for more than three hours straight, Beckett had been tired of his making jokes and surreptitiously glancing at her while she had been doing her job. So, when she had caught him hurriedly looking away from her face for the eleventh time that afternoon, she had slammed the letter in her hand on the table and addressed him warningly. "What?"

He had put his best innocent look on his face. "Nothing." After the detective had continued staring at his face, Castle had broken – albeit with an unapologetic smile. "No, it's just… the way your brow furrows when you're thinking, it's cute." His smile had turned to a full grin before he had carried on. "I mean, not if you're playing poker, then it'd be deadly, but otherwise -"

"Can I ask you a question?" She had interrupted him then. "Why are you here?" At his surprised look, she had continued. "You don't care about the victims, so you aren't here for justice. You don't care that the guy's aping your books, so you aren't here because you're outraged. So what is it, Rick? Are you here to annoy me?"

The way she had said his given name somehow had almost made him wish she would revert to calling him 'Mr. Castle'. Trying to ignore it, he had told her the truth. "I'm here for the story."

"The story?"

He had nodded. "Why those people? Why those murders?" And after her cynical reply that sometimes the guy was a just a psychopath, he had tried to prove her wrong by using her as his case at hand. "Take you for example. Under normal circumstances, you should _not_ be here. Most smart, good-looking women become lawyers, not cops. And, yet, here you are." He had made a funny face then to get his point across. "Why?"

"I don't know, Rick." This time, the sound of his name on her lips sounded less tainted, although her voice had still carried some mockery in it. "You're the novelist. You tell me." And then the young detective had settled back in her chair to hear him spin his tale on her, which she had thought would be as inaccurate as the next one.

Beckett had had no idea that it would bring all the hurt and sorrow she had buried deep inside in her heart back to the surface.

But Castle hadn't known when he had started this what he would find in her eyes either, so he had simply started his analysis of her. And by the time the author had realized something bad had happened in her life, it had been too late to stop talking. "It was someone you cared about. It was someone you loved." He had noticed the anguish pooling in her eyes as he narrated her pain in his own words. "And you probably could have lived with that, but the person responsible was never caught." For once in his life, there had been no satisfaction in showing off his talent for reading people. The writer had simply felt awful for her. "And, that Detective Beckett, is why you're here."

She had felt like crying. He at least had had the decency to look remorseful.

Beckett had taken a deep breath, stared down back to the letter she had been reading before he had decided to momentarily destroy her heart with his guessing game and spoken without glancing at him. "Cute trick. But don't think you know me."

He had thought about apologizing to her, but the look in her eyes had already changed from hurtful to professional.

She had found something in the correspondence he had brought over.

Beckett had then discussed the matter with her Captain, bagged the letter she had found – which had some drawings in it, including of the crime scenes – and delivered them to the crime scene unit. And then she probably would have been able to restore her appreciation for Rick Castle if he hadn't broken protocol and called the Mayor's Office to get the lab to rush the fingerprint identification she had requested, a test that would have taken a week to be conducted due to the usual backlog.

It hadn't been a problem because she was a control freak (as Esposito had once told her, nonchalantly), but in fact because she deemed all victims to be just as important – in her book, the only scenario for jumping the line and paying special attention to any case would be if the perpetrator in that particular case was considered a grave risk to society. That had not been the case at hand. This time, protocol had been broken just because a playboy novelist had not been feeling like waiting for the results he wanted.

So, when the fingerprinting results had come back identifying their suspect as a Kyle Cabot, Beckett had tried once again to ignore him as he followed her around to her car, doing all the annoying things he had done that morning. Once again, when they had reached their destination, she had asked Castle to stay out of the way – this time in the car. Once again, he had failed to follow her orders, going up to the suspect's apartment after her and her fellow NYPD crowd. Fortunately for him (and unfortunately for the investigation), the suspect was not home; but the apartment had tons of incriminating evidence. The detectives had decided then to have a patrol car stationed outside this Cabot's building to monitor the suspect's place and, if he came home at some point tonight, they would return in the morning to pick him up.

Beckett had been so frustrated with Castle's attitude all day long that she hadn't even realized that it had been close to 7:45 p.m. by the time they had reached the precinct. So, she had quickly texted her boyfriend, telling him that she would meet him by 8:40 p.m. at the restaurant he had chosen, if only he would tell her which restaurant that was.

"So, what time should I be here tomorrow?" Castle had asked her, so excited that it had irritated her even more.

She had taken a deep breath, trying to temper down her desire to maim her favorite author. "Just go home, Castle. I'll call you tomorrow once we've picked up the suspect."

"Oh, come on! I don't even get to tag along for the arrest?"

Exasperated, she had replied, "No. Just go home, Castle. It's been a long day."

Noticing the tiredness and dissatisfaction in her features, he had decided to follow her request for the first time this day. "Okay. Do you have my number?" Before she even had a chance to reply, he had already picked up a pen and started scribbling his numbers on a block of paper pad that had been sitting on her desk. "Here you go – cell phone and home number." Handing her the piece of paper, he had then tried to cheer her up with a soft smile. "Until tomorrow, Detective."

It hadn't worked. "Night, Castle."

And then Beckett had gone straight to the locker room, taken a shower and started getting dressed. Only then her phone chimed, signaling that she had received a text message - from Will, finally. Reading it, she noticed he had texted her with the restaurant name and nothing more.

She was glad that Castle had already left for the day. She would have killed him, otherwise.

* * *

Before leaving the precinct, Castle had stopped by the boys desks, chatted amicably with them for a few moments before actually touching on the subject that had been on his mind since earlier in the day.

"Guys… can I ask you something?"

Esposito and Ryan were still recovering from their laughing fit caused by a joke Rick had just told them when they replied, in unison, "Sure, bro." "Shoot."

Castle looked over his shoulders before quietly speaking, "Why is Beckett a detective?"

Even if he hadn't asked them anything directly, the implication in Castle's voice had enough of a sobering effect for the male detectives. Neither said a word for a few seconds, before Ryan spoke up, "What do you mean?"

"Well," He maintained the low tone in his voice, "I got this feeling earlier today that something might have happened to her that caused her to become a detective. So, I got curious and –"

"If you're curious," Esposito interrupted him, "you should really ask Beckett."

"Well, I would, but I don't think she would tell me." The writer replied sheepishly.

"Then it's really not our place to say anything, now is it?" The Hispanic detective countered, getting up from his seat and walking into the break room.

The Irish detective looked sorry for the novelist as he rose from his seat as well. Before he got a chance to leave, though, Castle stepped in front of him with pleading eyes. "Can you at least give me her number? I'd like to talk to her and I'd rather not wait until I meet her here again tomorrow."

Ryan thought for a moment, before replying. "Okay, but if you tell her I'm the one who gave it to you, you're a dead man."

* * *

"I'm sorry I'm late," Kate said before lightly kissing her boyfriends lips. "I had to take care of something at work before I could leave."

"You look nice." He complimented her, before taking a guess at the reason for her delay. "Paperwork?"

She loudly exhaled as she took a seat, voicing her single worded reply in annoyance. "Castle."

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly in confusion. "Huh?"

"He's just…" She actually puffed, exasperated at the mere memory of him. "Argh!"

Watching his girlfriend rub her eyes with her hands, Will gently touched her forearms, trying to calm her down. "Kate, let's take a step back here, maybe? What are you talking about?"

"Castle." She replied again, not really getting the puzzled look on the agent's face. "Richard Castle."

"The author? How did he get you so worked up?"

Only then did Kate realize Will had no idea that Castle had been assisting her on her current murder case. Somehow, she had failed to update her boyfriend on the latest news involving her favorite author and the precinct. "Well, Castle's assisting the NYPD with this case I'm working on." Before he got a chance to interject, she carried on. "The victims have been murdered in the same way as in some of his earlier books."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" He hoped the jealousy he was feeling did not show in his voice.

But something did, or Kate wouldn't have taken her hands out of his grasp and sat up a little defensively. "It probably just slipped my mind. It's not a big deal."

From then on, dinner went downhill. And even if Castle had been at fault for the first signs of discomfort during the couple's date – although he wasn't even aware of it this time –, there was no way Kate could have blamed him for the main reason their dinner was anything but pleasant. No one, not even herself, could have predicted that her boyfriend had decided on this romantic setting in order to tell her he had been offered a position in Boston. And that he was thinking of accepting it. And that he wanted her to go with him.

And that she had to give him her answer by this weekend.

* * *

When Kate had walked in her apartment later that evening, she was feeling worse than she had felt at the precinct. She could not believe that her boyfriend would just spring this news on her and expect her to just drop her life and follow him around. She couldn't do that; Will shouldn't even ask that of her. And to make matters worse, he had actually accused her of not thinking of him and his career.

They had said their goodbyes at the restaurant after dinner, with her promising him she would give some serious thought to his proposal before giving him an answer on Sunday.

She felt lost. Changing out of her dress, she held the ring she wore on a chain around her neck in her left hand for a while, hoping maybe that the inanimate object would provide her with the answers she needed. Realizing that her mother's ring did not work as an Ouija board (and chuckling quietly to herself at that fact that not even the Ouija board did actually work for communicating with the dead), she removed the chain from around her neck and placed it gently in her jewelry box. Slipping into her pajamas, she felt more than heard her cell phone vibrating in her purse, and immediately strode off in its direction to answer the call.

Expecting it to be Will (hopefully with an apology for the words he had directed at her tonight), she was surprised to see that she had received two text messages from the same unknown number. She was even more surprised once she started reading the first one, _"A little bird (actually, a violent one, if their promise to murder me should I let you know their identity is any indication) gave me your number. I wanted to apologize. I don't actually know what happened in your life that made you become a detective, but I had no idea I would find so much pain in your eyes today. And I'm sorry for bringing it up. I know it's useless, but I'm also sorry that you went through something that left you this wounded. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you. Rick C."_

Motionless, she stared at the message for a whole minute trying to understand this man who aggravated her to no end all day long only to have her heart fluttering a couple of hours later with a few words. Before she lost her courage, she opened the second message. _"And I realized that we have in fact met before. I can recall your dazzling smile combined with that look of pain – a book signing, right? No wonder you refrained from admitting to meeting me before. You were hoping I would never find out you're a fan! Too late now."_

She actually laughed, despite everything. Without texting him any reply, she simply dropped her phone on her nightstand and settled in her bed. She still had a lot on her mind, between her job and her boyfriend, and even the author himself, but Kate was hoping to get a few hours of restful sleep before she had to think about any of these things.

At least one thought did not leave her mind until she had drifted off: she still couldn't understand Richard Castle, but maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

**_TBC_**

**_(All characters, the homicide case plotline and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)_**


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: This chapter wraps up the events in the Pilot – I **__**apologize for taking five chapters to deal with a lot of familiar (albeit slightly different) scenes.**__** But hey, after this we'll start with the actual "what-if"! Finally, right?!**_

_**Once again, thank you for your reviews, follows and favorites. Please don't stop now!**_

_**And special thanks to BURN3 for helping with this one.**_

* * *

The following morning, Rick had woken up earlier than he was used to, hoping to get to precinct before the detectives had left to pick up their suspect without having to forego his morning routine at home and a quick pit stop by a coffee shop close to the Twelfth.

Of course, that didn't happen.

By the time the writer had made it to the Homicide floor at the police station, he had noticed Esposito and Ryan escorting a young man into Interrogation 2 and Beckett walking away from Captain Montgomery, cell phone in hand, back to her desk.

Jogging awkwardly towards the female detective with two coffee cups in his hands, he called out just as he approached her, "You promised you'd call me!"

Eyeing the coffee cups he was carrying warily, she replied slowly as she dropped her phone on her desk, "I just did the next best thing."

Right on cue, his mobile vibrated to indicate he had received a text message. Castle placed both coffee cups on the edge of the desk and retrieved the device, reading over the text – 'Picked up the suspect. We'll wait until you get here to question him.' Looking up at the woman in front of him, he placed his right hand over his heart teasingly. "You would wait for me? I'm touched."

Beckett rolled her eyes.

Before she had a chance to admonish him, though, Castle slid one of the coffee cups in her direction, telling her, "Got you something. Grande skim latte, two pumps sugar-free vanilla."

The detective was so impressed she couldn't even move. "How did you know?"

He just shrugged. "I'm a novelist." After a beat, he added with a soft smile, "And I'm trying to make you smile."

Kate looked down at the desk and reached for the coffee cup, putting it to her lips and drinking the hot liquid carefully, all the while trying to hide the hint of a smile he had in fact been able to put upon her face.

Still, Castle noticed it and beamed.

* * *

"That's it?" Castle whined, standing with Beckett, Esposito, Ryan and Captain Montgomery as they watched the police officers escort Kyle Cabot towards the precinct's holding cells after the interrogation.

"Yeah," Esposito replied. "Once we arrest someone, the guy stays in holding until he's transferred to Central Booking downtown. By then his lawyer will probably have already arranged his arraignment."

Ryan cut in, mocking, "You know, for a crime writer, you know surprisingly little about procedure."

Castle let out a fake laugh while the others actually snickered. "Ha ha. That's not what I meant. I mean, that's it – you just found this guy with PDD, who happens to be a fan of my books, and he's so obsessed with them that he decides to murder three people, including his social worker?"

"Yep." Beckett replied easily. "Doesn't it just bother you that someone felt inspired by you to commit these murders?" She teased him in the most sarcastic tone she could muster, trying to annoy him for a change.

"I didn't exactly inspire these murders, Detective." The writer replied just as easily, but in a serious tone. "The killer may have set the crime scenes as in my books, but these people weren't killed because of me. They were killed because some psychotic finally snapped. If it wasn't me, it would've been Black Sabbath, Metallica or Marilyn Manson. Maybe even reruns of _Full House_..." Once he noticed the female detective rolling her eyes at his joke, he resumed. "I digress. The point is, finding this guy was too easy. All evidence point to him and he's actually responsible?"

At this, the group laughed again.

"That's usually how it goes, Mr. Castle." Captain Montgomery explained. "In our world, when a guy is standing over a dead body with a smoking gun, he's probably the one who shot the victim."

"But it doesn't make any sense," Castle said, frustrated. "Did you read the CSU report? The rose petals on Alison Tisdale's body were grandiflora, not hybrid teas. He's not the guy." The novelist looked around the group, expectant. Even more frustrated once he realized no one understood why he was making such a big deal out of that, he continued, "In _Flowers for Your Grave_, the killer uses hybrid tea roses."

"So what?" Asked Esposito.

"So, the kind of rose petal might not be important to you –" he told the group, "or to the actual murderer –" he jabbed, "but to someone with PDD and an obsessive fixation? It would've been impossible not to get the details right."

"So he was sloppy," Beckett tried. She would not admit that his point actually made some sense.

But the author didn't even flinch. "An obsessive's incapable of being sloppy about their obsession. The release comes from getting the details perfectly right." He didn't give anyone a chance to interrupt him. "Look, the M.E. report says Martin Fisk was strangled with a neck-tie, not suffocated by a plastic bag like in _Hell Hath no Fury_. And to be truthful to _Death of a Prom Queen_, Kendra Philip's dress should have been blue, not yellow. Come on, those two were easy!"

Ryan was confused. "What about the evidence all over his apartment or his knowledge of all three victims?"

Castle beamed. "I said he didn't do it. I didn't say he wasn't framed."

Beckett snorted. "And I suppose Elvis is still alive, and the CIA killed JFK, right?"

"Actually, Elvis killed JFK," The writer joked.

The group chuckled.

Montgomery spoke up again, "Well, Mr. Castle, we appreciate your help in this matter." He then offered his hand to the author, in a clear movement of dismissal.

Castle shook the Captain's hand, but looked towards the three detectives after he let go. "So, that's really it?"

Beckett nodded once. "That's it."

* * *

When Esposito and Ryan had returned from lunch and spotted Beckett staring at the murder board intently, they had known it hadn't been 'it' for her. She had then explained to them that in fact the details didn't make any sense, and that the killings had occurred out of order – no killer would commit a murder of convenience, escalate to the murder of someone he knew and then go back to a murder of convenience. So the three of them had studied the murder board together, looked over all the evidence again and realized that the murderer somehow must have had a connection with Alison Tisdale and must have been simply trying to cover up his tracks.

So, Beckett had left after that to visit the girl's father, attempting to learn anything useful to the investigation. As she had reached the lobby in the millionaire's offices building, though, the first thing she had learned was that Castle was also a persistent nosy guy – he had made an appointment to talk to Tisdale, Sr. because he couldn't let this case go.

Instead of annoying her, this strangely both amused and pleased her.

The two of them had then questioned Jonathan Tisdale together, realized that the older man had terminal cancer and that his son stood to inherit all of the man's fortune alone once he had passed away.

Since it had already been past regular business hours once they had returned to the precinct, Beckett decided to question Tisdale, Jr. the following morning. And after she had promised Castle she would pick him up in the morning to go talk to the new suspect together, the author had agreed to go home.

But not without leaning into the attractive detective and planting a soft kiss just above the corner of her mouth. "Until tomorrow, Detective."

Only once the writer had disappeared behind the elevator doors did Kate let out the breath she had been holding with a wistful smile.

* * *

The following morning, when Beckett had parked her Crown Vic outside Castle's building to pick him up as promised, the writer had already been waiting for her on the sidewalk, two lidded paper cups in hand. With a small smile and a simple nod in thanks – she knew better than to question him after his flirtatious reply the day before –, the detective had accepted the coffee cup he handed to her when he had entered the vehicle and taken a sip before driving off the streets in lower Manhattan. Castle had then been left to entertain himself, either by trying to find something good to listen to on the radio or by closely watching his intriguing female companion drive the car.

Once they had arrived at the apartment building where Alison Tisdale's brother, Harrison, lived, the writer had addressed the doorman in a no-nonsense but polite manner, questioning him about Tisdale's lifestyle and overall behavior and managing to learn everything that had to be learned from someone other than Harrison Tisdale himself while Beckett waited for him down the hall. As soon as the elevator doors closed on Castle and Beckett on their way up to the Tisdale's unit, the author had beamed, "Did you see that? I milked that doorman!"

And so it had been clear to Beckett at that point that Castle had decided to play 'real cop' this morning.

The two of them had spent less than half an hour conversing with Tisdale, Jr., but that time had been enough for the detective and the tag-along writer to decide that this man had probably been involved in the killings because of financial problems – and, ironically, the fact that he had readily provided alibis for all three murders under investigation had turned out to be the reason for the detective not to believe said alibis. So, after the dynamic duo had finished their questioning (Castle had even warned Mr. Tisdale to not leave town, which clearly showed Beckett that she shouldn't have let him learn some of the tricks the NYPD was at times entitled to), they had driven straight to the precinct, discussing their suspect's alibis for all murders during their car ride. And then, Beckett had had to endure Castle acting his usual arrogant self, bragging about 'knowing beforehand that the brother was the killer'.

"Oh, please! You fell for the alibis. He totally fooled you," Beckett had told him, trying to bring Castle's ego back down to Earth.

"I had a fleeting moment of self doubt," had been the author's reply.

Once at the precinct, Beckett had spent the remainder of the morning trying, alongside Ryan, Esposito and Castle, to poke holes at Harrison Tisdale's alibis. Finally, by 2 p.m. and with no lunch in their stomachs, they had managed to confirm that, although Junior had in fact traveled to foreign destinations at the time of each murder, he had suspiciously not returned to his hotel room at the night of which crime. Surmising that their suspect must have had a second passport, Beckett had decided to request a search warrant from Judge Markaway – one of Castle's golf buddies, she had learned.

The detective had no way of knowing, however, that by leaving to execute the search warrant, all hell would break loose.

* * *

It turned out that Harrison Tisdale did in fact have a second passport – one he had shredded before managing to leave his apartment through the fire escape.

And it turned out that Beckett had been right to handcuff Castle to her cruiser parked outside Tisdale's building before leaving to execute the search warrant – because of it, the writer had spotted the suspect coming down the fire escape in an attempt to evade the police.

But it also turned out that Castle was in fact a stubborn inconsiderate man-child – the novelist, who couldn't stand to be left out of action even if it was for his own protection, had managed to pick the locks in the police issued handcuffs (he had found himself glad to have thoroughly researched with burglars, safe-crackers and pick-lockers for one of his Derrick Storm novel at that) and followed the fugitive suspect into an alley.

And now Beckett was facing a cornered Tisdale, who had taken Castle hostage and was using the author as a human shield, because of all of this.

"Whoops," Castle said sheepishly the moment he got a first glimpse of Beckett.

If Harrison didn't kill the novelist, Beckett was sure she would.

"Stay back!" Shouted the suspect, holding Castle a little more tightly when he noticed Beckett, Ryan and Esposito all pointing their guns at him.

"Let him go, Harrison." Beckett tried in a soothing voice, with her gun still trained on Tisdale, though. Then, she addressed the writer. "Castle, you okay?"

"Yeah. Except psycho here needs a breath mint."

"Shut up." Tisdale warned him.

"No, you shut up," was Castle's juvenile retort.

"Just shut up!"

Great, Beckett thought. Now even the kidnapper was exasperated with Castle.

But Castle was on a roll. "You know what's bothering me, man? If you were that deep in debt, why didn't you just ask your father for the money?"

"Why are you still talking? Just shut up or I'll blow your head off!"

"Castle, you're not helping," Warned Beckett, before returning her attention to Tisdale. "Don't be stupid," She told him non-threateningly, never lowering her gun, though. "There's nowhere to go."

"It's not over." The man growled, backing away and pulling the novelist with him. "Now drop your guns or I blow his brains out."

Castle rolled his eyes. "Seriously? How more cliché can you get?"

"Castle!" The female detective scolded him.

Ignoring Beckett's admonition, the novelist addressed Harrison again. "You know what I think? I think you did ask. I think you asked and he said no. I bet he thought you were weak for asking."

This clearly struck a chord with Tisdale. "He was the one who was weak. I was trying to make something of my life and all he cared about was her."

Beckett saw this distraction as an opportunity to try again. "Harrison, let him go. It's over."

"It's not over! You all drop your guns or I swear to God, I'll –"

Castle elbowed the kidnapper's nose and immediately managed to snap the man's gun away before he fell to the ground, knocked out. High on adrenaline, the writer shouted, "Tell me you saw that!"

Beckett holstered her gun and kneeled over Tisdale's back while the two detectives who had been standing a few steps behind her still covered her. Once she had cuffed the suspect using the same cuffs that had been adorning Castle's wrists not ten minutes before – she hadn't missed the irony in that –, she shoved Castle against the wall angrily (to the quiet chuckles of Ryan and Esposito). _"_What the hell were you thinking? You could've gotten yourself killed!"

The writer actually smirked. "Well, the safety was on the whole time."

Annoyed and relieved at the same time, she let out a breath. "You know, you could've told me."

At this, he beamed. "Now, where's the fun in that?"

Esposito and Ryan chuckled again, this time not so quietly. Taking notice of them, Beckett kneeled over Tisdale's body again, lightly slapping his face a few times to wake him up, and then got herself off the ground, pulling the suspect along with her. After reading the man his Miranda rights, Beckett escorted a cuffed Harrison Tisdale towards the marked police cruiser, followed by the two male detectives.

As Rick stood there, watching entranced as Kate Beckett did her job, his phone rang. Checking the caller ID, Rick answered with a sigh. "Gina, now it's seriously not the best time for me."

"Oh, I'm sure you can send the bimbo home and finish the chapters you owe me," Gina promptly replied over the phone.

"Unfortunately, there are no bimbos involved." He retorted, trying to slip into the playboy persona that was expected of him. "And I've still got a few days before I have to deliver the manuscript."

"Yeah, a few days until your third deadline expires. I swear to God, Rick…"

As Rick took notice of Beckett standing a few steps away from Ryan and Esposito by the police line, the author knew he needed to cut this conversation with his ex-wife short. Turning away from them, he interrupted whatever Gina had been saying. "What, Gi… crsshhh... sorry... crsshhh… 'eaking up."

"Really, Rick? You're going with fake reception loss?" Was his publisher's perfectly clear come back. "Are you ten?"

"You're right. I'm sorry." The writer told her loud and clear, before simply hanging up the phone.

When he turned back in the direction the detectives had been standing a few moments before, he came face to face with Beckett, who was smirking at his antics. He shrugged shamefacedly.

Allowing her smirk to turn into a soft smile, Beckett spoke, "Well, I guess this is it."

"It doesn't have to be. We could, uh, go to dinner." He told her, with a voice that was at first endearingly shy. Then, growing confident, he wiggled his brows once. "Debrief each other."

She smirked again, albeit a bit tiredly. "Why, Castle? So I can be another one of your conquests?" Her reply was still laced with tease.

He smiled in return. "Or I could be one of yours."

Kate was a bit taken aback by his answer, both seductive and pleading at the same time, in a way she was starting to believe only Richard Castle could pull off. She felt flattered and somewhat temped, there was no denying that to herself, but she was in a relationship with someone else. Not even the promise of an unforgettable night with this charming famous writer could make her ignore her feelings for her boyfriend and, more importantly, her principles. Straightening herself, she spoke. "It was nice to meet you, Castle."

He had noticed her interest – the way she was softly pulling her lower lip into her mouth with her teeth before replying was every bit of an indication to the thoughts in her mind – and couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed she was letting him go. "You sure?"

The moment her cell phone chimed, interrupting them, Kate thought that someone (Murphy, perhaps) had been watching them from above and surely having a great time by making them long for each other only to then remind them that it shouldn't – couldn't – happen. And as she checked the caller ID, she realized that this someone above – certainly it must be Murphy! – had a weird sense of humor.

Watching the gorgeous detective in front of him with her lips pressed together in thought, weighing in her mind whether or not she should take the call, Rick suddenly understood. "Boyfriend?"

Immediately glancing up to his face, Kate looked just like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. She let her call go to voicemail (there was no way she would be able to talk to Will in front of Castle) and plastered her face with the best determined look she could muster. "Yes."

She hoped the fake conviction in her voice would be enough to fool Castle into believing she wasn't interested.

Rick was not entirely convinced by her act, though he admired her commitment to the man she was involved with. "It's too bad," He told her, with a resigned smile, before sticking out his right hand to her. "It would've been great."

She noticed his self-assuredness and couldn't help but try and outdo him. Taking his proffered hand, Kate gently touched her free hand to his waist, leaning into him with a sultry smile on her lips to whisper in his left ear, "You have no idea."

As if her words hadn't been enough to affect him, Rick then felt her pulling back an inch, removing her left hand from his body but letting her right one remain encased in his grip, and then he was able to look into her eyes and watch as she lasciviously raised right brow and pursed her lips.

He had been so lost in her that he had actually forgotten to breathe.

Letting go of his hand, Kate smirked at his reaction while she turned away from Castle and sauntered back to her car, not looking back. Rick, on the other hand, could not take his eyes off of her form, feeling hypnotized while he watched her start the engine in her Crown Vic and drive away.

* * *

The moment she had parked her cruiser outside the 12th Precinct, Kate's phone had started ringing again – just like the last time, it had been Will. Feeling levelheaded once she had distanced herself from Castle, the brunette had answered the call, sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere as they chatted politely for a few minutes before agreeing to meet at his place once she had finished the paperwork regarding her latest arrest and hanging up.

A little over two hours later, Kate had been standing outside Will's apartment in Murray Hill, feeling awkward again at the prospect of seeing her boyfriend for the first time since their argument two nights before. She still hadn't officially decided whether she would move to Boston with him or not – truth to be told, she already knew her answer would be no; the matter was how she could make Will see that he could be stay, that sooner or later he would be offered a better position in New York too. That they didn't have to part ways.

But all those thoughts had been in vain.

"I got the job." Will told her as soon as she walked into his living room.

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters, the homicide case plotline and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Firstly, I want to apologize for not updating sooner. Work and family matters (not to mention Carnaval!) got in the way, but now here's the new chapter! **_

_**Now, I got a bit carried away with what I wanted to write here, so I decided it was best to have this chapter as a shorter one, dealing with the immediate aftermath of last chapter's ending. Next chapter (which I promise to post ASAP) will have more of what I actually want this story to be like LOL**_

_**Once again, thanks to BURN3 for all the help.**_

* * *

Kate waited until she had locked the door to her apartment behind her to let her tears silently fall.

Standing alone in the middle of her living room, the young brunette couldn't fully comprehend at first how her now ex-boyfriend, who had claimed he loved her, could so easily choose to move away from her without discussing the matter in detail first. Replaying their conversation of not an hour before in her head, sentences like 'I couldn't let this pass' and 'it's a great opportunity' still didn't make much sense to Kate. No matter what she tried to tell herself, though, the dead giveaway for his reasons was apparent when he had confronted her about her hesitation to come with him.

"_Why can't you choose us, Kate?"_, Will had asked. Of course, the meaning behind his phrasing had been why couldn't she choose him over her dead mother.

And that was all that really mattered. In the end, it didn't matter that she had gone through three years of therapy before she had met Will and sticked with it for these past six months to try to accept what happened to her mother, to her family, to _herself_ that evening in January, 1999; it didn't matter that her relationship with him had been the only functional adult relationship she had had in her entire life; the fact remained that Kate wouldn't choose Will. She still couldn't commit to him completely.

Indeed, despite how many times Will had told her he loved her and how much she believed it and wanted to still believe it, Kate hadn't been fully invested in her relationship to Will throughout the two years they had been together. She knew that, although she had confided in him about her mother's murder and how it had affected her (_still_ affected her), she had never actually let him know _exactly how much_ it had affected her. Kate's level of commitment so far had been connected to her level of comfort with the relationship – Will had made her feel safe and loved without causing her that sense of overwhelming passion and fear of being hurt. Only now that he had asked her to step out of her comfort zone, she couldn't step up to face such an emotional challenge. Regardless of her best efforts over the years, she had still kept a foot out of the door.

Will had asked her to move to Boston with him. Kate couldn't do that. She couldn't leave New York. This was her life. Her work was in New York, her father – what remained of her family – was in New York. Her mother's memory was in New York.

She sobbed for what it felt like hours once she realized what a mess she still was after all these years.

Realizing she was still crying silently in her living room, Kate dried her cheeks as best as she could with the side of each of her thumbs while she mechanically wandered toward her bedroom, in hopes that carrying out her familiar evening routine at home would be enough to get her through her grief. Instinctively, the detective bent over a few inches to remove the boots she was wearing, then gently undressed herself, numb fingers at work until she was standing in her black cotton bra and panties in front of her full body mirror. Kate's eyes roamed over the image of her own body in the mirror, from her toes up to her neck, noticing on the way her long toned legs, her shapely hips, her flat stomach and full natural breasts, all in proportion to form a slender and feminine figure wrapped up by smooth white skin. She knew she was a beautiful woman and was aware of how her sexy lean body caught the attention of more than a few gentlemen (and even a few ladies) everywhere she went.

Nevertheless, she didn't feel sexy now. As she stared at her own vision in the mirror, she noticed how her lips still quivered and her face was still stained in the aftermath of her tears. Above all, she noticed that her own eyes betrayed her, portraying all the pain she was feeling – due to her breakup, her mother's murder, her sense of loneliness.

Feeling her eyes watering again, Kate quickly stepped away from the full body mirror next to her dresser and walked in the bathroom, where she put her dirty clothes in the hamper, brushed her teeth and combed her hair, all without glancing at her own reflection in the smaller mirror above the sink. Quickly dressing in her pajamas when she returned to her bedroom, the detective turned out the lights and settled in her bed.

Before succumbing to sleep, Kate wondered yet again if she would ever let herself move on from this tragedy and truly live her own life.

* * *

Meanwhile, Rick was once again sitting alone in his darkened office, staring at the blank page on his laptop screen.

After Beckett had left him standing in the middle of the crime scene, he had spent a few minutes talking to Ryan, Esposito and some of the officers before parting ways with them all. Then he had gone back to his loft, where he dined with his mother and daughter while he recounted the events of the case as excitedly as he could manage; his heart hadn't been wholly set on it, though. To this moment, Rick's mind was still filled with thoughts regarding the wonder that was Detective Kate Beckett.

"You think it's a mistake, don't you?"

Startled out of his reverie, Rick looked up to find his teenage daughter standing by the door. Glancing at the platinum watch he was wearing on his left wrist and ignoring her question, he raised his eyebrows curiously. "What are you doing up? Don't you turn into a pumpkin or something if you stay up after midnight on a school night?"

"I was going to get a glass of water when I noticed the light coming off your laptop screen in here," She told him without moving. "So. You think it's a mistake."

Tentatively, Rick addressed the girl's inquiry with a question of his own, "What's a mistake?"

"Profiting from the Storm novels. That's why you can't write."

Castle wasn't expecting the words out of Alexis's mouth, especially because he somehow thought she had been referring to his situation involving the brunette female detective, even if he hadn't mentioned a word of it to his family.

All the same, Rick wasn't sure the teen understood exactly why he hadn't been able to write the past few months, so he tried to explain it to her as best as he could – honesty had always been the policy in the Castle household. "I don't see the point in continuing with a series that has become too predictable. I already know how the story will turn out ten chapters ahead of time, but somehow I still get paid as if these books were a mystery that no one but me was capable of writing." He assessed the look in his daughter's eyes and sighed before admitting what was truly bothering him. "I'm no longer excited about Storm and people shouldn't still be interested in reading these books if they are able to figure out who the killer is before they get to chapter twelve."

Alexis finally moved from the door and walked into her father's office, coming to sit on his lap and winding her arms around his shoulders affectionately. "People still can't figure out the killer by chapter twelve, Dad."

"Yeah, well, people are stupid then," he told her, childishly.

"Dad," The teen admonished him. Then she turned soft. "Your writing is still spectacular."

Rick watched his kid fondly. "You know, I started writing because it felt like a calling to me. The way my imagination worked, the rush I'd get from making the story fall into place in a way that other people couldn't see beforehand. The money turned it all into the ultimate dream job, of course, but sometimes…" He trailed off.

The young redhead recognized what he had been going to say, though. "You'd rather write something that makes you happy than writing something that makes you rich."

He nodded once, still amazed at the depths of his daughter's insight. "Writing used to make me both." He sighed then, running his fingers through Alexis's hair and pulling her head down on his left shoulder. "And don't get me wrong, I'm not about to sell everything I own and go on a spiritual journey. I'm still very happy with the Ferrari and the parties and the fame –"

"You just wished you were writing something that made it all worth it again." She completed, without moving her head off his shoulder.

"Yeah," He acknowledged.

"So what's the big deal? You just have to write something that makes you tingle again."

Rick didn't say a word, but the young lady on his lap felt him stiffen almost imperceptibly.

When almost an entire minute had passed without her father saying a word, Alexis turned to look to him and suddenly realized something. "You think you're never going to find something that motivates you as much as this set of novels once did."

Rick's brain inadvertently reverted to the beautiful and savvy detective he had spend the past few days with. Ignoring the side of him that was intrigued by Kate Beckett, the writer addressed his daughter's comment from a different angle. "I'm thinking about killing him off," Rick admitted, referring to Storm. "But what if I'm stuck with him? What if I can't write about another character that is as good as Derrick Storm once was again?"

Alexis looked into her father's eyes comfortingly. "Then don't kill him yet. Take a little creative detour." She smiled. "Why don't you change things up a bit? Maybe add a different character to the mix. Or even kill off one of the recurring characters instead? If it still doesn't work, you can always just retire him." Her eyes gleamed mischievously. "Ooh, I know – you could cripple him!"

Castle's chuckled lightly, eyes sparkling in acceptance of some of the young redhead's suggestions as he chuckled lightly. "That could work."

Alexis's tone turned a bit more serious once again. "It will work, Dad. I know you – you're good. You just need to find inspiration again."

Rick smiled unreservedly at his daughter's words of wisdom. "You're too wise for your own age, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I'm still trying to figure out where I got that from," She quipped.

"Funny," he told her before kissing the top of Alexis's head.

"Well, at least we know where I got my sense of humor from."

Father and daughter smiled at each other, both thankful for the special connection they shared.

Once the teen had gone back to bed after saying their good nights, Rick resettled in his chair, his mind already overflowing with ideas.

Richard Castle felt ready to start writing again.

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. **__**No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: As promised, here's chapter 7 – thanks to BURN3 for speedily proofreading it. Also, I'd like to thank you for your reviews, follows and favorites so far. This is really the only way I get to know people enjoy this story. So once you've finished reading this, you'll all review and let me know if you still care for this fanfic, okay? Good =)**_

_**By the way, hang on to your seats for tonight's episode: you're in for a real intense hour.**_

* * *

Almost two months had passed since the last time Rick Castle had seen Detective Kate Beckett. During this time, Rick had managed to write a whole eight chapters of his new Storm novel – just in time to meet his fourth deadline with Gina, which had been due a week before. Now, he could only hope the folks at Black Pawn would be satisfied with the direction the new book was taking, which he would be informed of in his meeting at their headquarters the next day.

During these past months, Rick had also done his best to enjoy his newly found singleness and work on his celebrity status, consolidating his playboy fame – he had attended three different galas, a few high profile parties and one rock concert, all with a total of six different ladies. As he readied himself for another night out on the town, the famous novelist caught sight of his mother standing at his bedroom door watching him fasten his golden watch on his left wrist.

"So, what are your plans for tonight?" She asked.

Passing Martha as he walked into the living room, he commented offhandedly, "Just dinner and a Broadway play."

"Sounds romantic," he heard his daughter say from where she was sitting on the couch, book in her lap.

Turning to face her, he placed a quick kiss on her head and checked his pockets for his phone, wallet and keys before replying, "Yeah. You'll be alright, right?"

"Of course, Dad. You have a nice date."

He smirked, turning towards the loft's door. "I've left a credit card hidden under the fruit bowl for you, in case you want to sneak out and party like there's no tomorrow, okay?"

"Thanks, Dad, but I have a Physics test tomorrow."

He was stopped by Martha at the door. "You sure she's your kid?"

Rick smirked at the both of them. "The story of my life." Then, he kissed his mother on the right cheek. "Don't wait up!"

"I guess dinner and a show are not all you have in mind, then," Martha spoke up knowingly before he had a chance to walk out.

"Good night, Mother," Rick replied, ignoring her comment, before closing the door behind him.

Martha then turned to Alexis. "Which one is this again?" She asked, referring to her son's date.

"You know, Anja." Alexis replied, adding in airquotes, "The blonde and statuesque Latvian fashion model."

"Oh, right. Date no. 7, if I'm not mistaken," The older redhead commented as she walked into the kitchen in the direction of the wine cooler.

"Ever since his divorce, he's been unstoppable."

"He's just enjoying his life while he's still young. You should start doing it too, kiddo," Martha advised. "You're always studying. Go live a little."

"Well, someone has to keep the two of you in line," The young redhead joked.

"Why?" The Broadway diva asked rhetorically as she poured herself a goblet of Chianti. Walking back into the living room, she sat next to her granddaughter and tipped the glass in her hand in the teen's direction. "Sip?"

Alexis shook her head. "You know I'm only fourteen, right?"

Martha shrugged her shoulders as if to say _'your loss'_ and took a sip of the red wine herself before speaking again. "Look, kiddo, it doesn't take Freud to see your father's working through the five stages of grieving after his failed marriage: anger, denial, booze, blondes and rehab." Smiling sarcastically as she hugged the teen sideways, she finished. "Good news is he's up to blondes."

Laying her head on her grandmother's shoulder, Alexis retorted, "Let's hope he manages to exchange the fifth stage for something better than rehab."

* * *

The next day, Rick turned around the corner of Park Avenue and 17th Street late in the afternoon, enjoying his quick stroll from the building where Black Pawn was headquartered on 20th Street to the large Barnes & Nobles located at Union Square, all in the cool spring breeze that preceded the soon to come hot summer days. Once inside the store, the author walked around aimlessly for a good twenty minutes in the cold and dry surroundings (courtesy of the blasting air conditioning) while he waited for his daughter, who was supposed to meet him here once her group study meeting ended.

For his part, his meeting at Black Pawn had gone as good as he could have expected. Gina had been surprised by the storyline he had written, but had embraced the changes he proposed for the book.

"_I'd never expect you to kill Clara Strike,"_ She had told him.

Rick had decided that, for his next Storm novel, the character of Clara Strike would be found murdered in a hotel in Manhattan, and a devastated and irate Derrick Storm would find a way to insert himself in the NYPD's murder investigation, which would be lead by a smart and sexy young female detective whom Storm would not be able to get out of his mind.

"_You need to come up with a name for her ASAP, though,"_ Gina had berated him. _"I can't print this with '[KB]' written on it. What is 'KB' anyway?"_

Thinking fast, Rick had replied, _"Kate Beckinsale. I just had this dream of her as the detective."_ Sighing lewdly for effect, he had added. _"Ah, good dream."_

Rick was smirking to himself as he recalled Gina's reaction to his indecent comment when his eyes landed on the back of a familiar female's head by the French literature section. He smiled once he realized that the brunette standing a few yards in front of him was Detective Kate Beckett, and then took a few moments to watch the beautiful woman who seemed distracted while she perused a novel in her hands.

However, the writer didn't get a chance to walk in her direction as he felt a pair of arms hug him from behind.

"There you are. I thought you said you'd be waiting for me at the café upstairs," Said Alexis, turning her father's body around so they could look at each other.

"Sorry. I got distracted going through the bestsellers section," He replied, after dropping a kiss to the teen's head in greeting and before trying to surreptitiously glance at Kate Beckett again.

Following her father's gaze, Alexis noticed the brunette who had her back to them. "Who is that?"

Busted, Castle quickly averted his eyes and focused on his kid again. "Who's who?"

"Dad," the teen started cautiously, "don't tell me you're trying to pick up a date at the book store."

"What?" He said in a high-pitched voice.

As Alexis prepared herself to start lecturing her father on his womanizing manners, she saw that the lady had moved and the teen caught a glimpse of her face. Recognition falling over her face, she asked in a surprised voice and with an inquisitive expression, "Isn't that the detective you worked with a couple of months ago?"

"Detective Beckett," He provided the name immediately. Trying to prevent his daughter from asking any more questions, he instantly carried on. "It looks like her, doesn't it? That's why I thought she seemed familiar," The novelist said, hoping for nonchalant. "Shall we go say 'hi'?"

Before Alexis could say anything, he was already walking towards the oblivious brunette. Once he reached her, he noticed the French crime novel Beckett had in her hands.

"You know, you should be a bit more supportive of American mystery writers," Rick announced in a low voice, close to her right ear, as a way of greeting.

Turning to look at the man who had decided to bother her, Kate was bewildered once she noticed it was Castle standing right in front of her, young lady in tow. "Castle? What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm a published author in a book store. You shouldn't be so surprised," He quipped before opting to give her an honest reply. "I just came from a meeting at Black Pawn and was waiting for Alexis to meet me here." He pointed at the teen he was embracing. "You remember my daughter, right?"

Alexis immediately took over, disentangling herself from her father's hold. "Actually, we were never properly introduced. Nice to meet you, Detective Beckett," She said as she stuck out her left hand.

Kate shook her hand with a smile, even if still a bit dazed. "Nice to meet you."

"What are you doing here?" Rick interrupted the girls' moment for pleasantries. Suddenly excited, he whispered, "Are you undercover or something?"

"Yes, Castle. I'm a homicide detective going undercover as a regular New Yorker in a book store."

Noticing the mocking tone in the detective's voice and the amused chuckle coming from his daughter, Rick commented, "It could happen." Then, resuming his line of questioning, he tried again. "So, what _are_ you doing here?"

"I thought I was enjoying a nice calm day off," She told him, pointedly.

"You live nearby?" He bypassed her attempt to get him to leave her alone.

"No, I was visiting… someone."

Aware of her hesitation, Rick sobered. "Boyfriend?"

"Actually, we broke up." Whatever made her say it she didn't know, but once she realized what she had disclosed, she went on. "I was just visiting my father."

He knew he shouldn't feel this way, but all of a sudden Castle was glad the detective had ended her relationship. Hoping he could get a chance to talk to Kate, he addressed his daughter. "Pumpkin, why don't you go ahead and get us a table in the café? I'll meet you there in a few minutes."

Taking in the gleam in her father's eyes, Alexis had this irrational hope that the intelligent and level-headed woman would put an end to the string of blondes her father had been parading around with. She complied with his request, nodding mutely and walking away even as she heard the brunette standing in front of her start to protest.

Once the redhead had left, Rick stood in silence next to Kate for a few moments deciding on what to say. "Do you want to grab a coffee? Maybe we could talk a bit, catch up."

She turned to him to assess his meaning. Although he didn't overtly ask her out on a date, she knew this was more than your friendly cup of coffee – they weren't actual friends to catch up on anything. "Thank you, Castle, but you're here with your daughter," She told him politely.

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind," He was quick to reply.

"No, seriously. I don't want to intrude. It was nice seeing you, though."

Rick recognized a brush off when he saw one, and there was no way he would let Kate go so easily. Putting on the most charming smile he could muster, he spoke, "Fine. Dinner then."

"I have plans tonight," She lied – he wouldn't know it, though. She glanced at her watch theatrically. "Actually, I really have to go now."

He smiled in an attempt to cover his disappointment. "Maybe another time. I'll call you?"

Kate's smile was well-mannered and uncomfortable at the same time. "Bye, Castle."

* * *

"Hey."

Lanie jumped in shock as she turned to see her friend standing just inside the autopsy room. "What the hell! You scared me!"

"Lanie, you're surrounded by corpses," Kate pointed out.

"Yeah, and I don't expect the living after seven o'clock," The medical examiner said as she pointed to the clock above the door before walking towards the locker room and beckoning her friend to follow. "What are you doing here? Isn't it your day off?"

"Yes," the brunette detective replied as Lanie started changing her clothes. "I was home and I thought maybe you'd like to go out for drinks or something."

The M.E. stopped moving, shirt in hand, and assessed her friend for about ten seconds before speaking up. "Okay, what's going on?"

Inside her head, Kate smiled. Not much got past her friend. "I ran into Richard Castle today. He asked me out," she admitted.

"What?" Lanie squeaked.

"I didn't accept it."

"You said no?" Lanie cried, hitting her friend on the upper arm with the shirt in her hand. "Girl, what's the matter with you? When a famous, handsome writer asks you out, you say 'yes'!"

"I didn't exactly say no. I just… I don't want to become a notch on his bedpost, Lanie."

"What, you wanna marry the guy?" She asked sarcastically as she finished getting dressed.

"Of course not," Kate immediately replied, embarrassed. She didn't want a wedding, just… maybe more than one night of sex.

"Then just have a good time, girl," Lanie interrupted the detective's thoughts. "He seems like a man who knows what he's doing and you need some fun in your life."

The brunette waited a beat before speaking. "Yeah, but Lanie, I don't even think he's going to ask again."

Lanie threw her purse on her shoulder, completely ignoring her friend's irrational concerns with an all-knowing smile on her lips. "So, drinks?"

Kate smiled with a single nod in acceptance of the M.E.'s behavior. "Drinks."

* * *

"Beckett," The detective answered her phone on the second ring while she looked over the file in her hands.

"Why, if it isn't the lovely Detective Kate Beckett."

She recognized his voice immediately and chastised herself for not checking her caller ID. Using a low voice to avoid gathering attention to herself, she spoke, "Castle, what do you want?"

"I was just thinking of you –"

"Got yourself arrested?"

Smirking, he continued as if she hadn't interrupted, "and I wanted to ask you to dinner tomorrow."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Still intent on that, huh?" At his laugh, she smiled and continued. "Are you sure it's a good idea, Rick?"

For the first time he could remember, he was glad to hear her call him by his first name. "Of course it is. Actually, it's more than a good idea. Meeting you by chance now two days ago? It's a sign from the universe that I should ask you out again."

"I don't believe in fate, Castle."

"Okay. Do you believe in persistence, then? I can be very annoying when I want to."

"That I actually know firsthand," She smirked.

He chuckled. "So, what do you say?"

Lanie's words about having fun came to her mind and before she had a chance to stop herself, Kate replied, "Okay."

Rick was floored. "Come again?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "I said 'okay', Castle. I accept your dinner invitation."

Castle silently celebrated, so ecstatic that he actually forgot to say something.

"What, now is the time you'll choose to tell me you weren't serious?" She joked, slight fear in her voice.

"No, no, no," He was quick to reply. "Of course I'm serious."

"Okay," She smiled, quickly looking down once she noticed Ryan and Esposito watching her. Sobering a bit, she told him, "I'm still at the precinct and there's a lot I have to do, so… can we talk later?"

"Of course, yeah. I'll call you later so we can talk details, okay?"

"Okay."

Once they hung up, both Beckett and Castle had a hard time wiping the smiles off their faces.

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	8. Chapter 8

_PREVIOUSLY:_

_Lanie's words about having fun came to her mind and before she had a chance to stop herself, Kate replied, "Okay."_

_Rick was floored. "Come again?"_

_Kate rolled her eyes. "I said 'okay', Castle. I accept your dinner invitation."_

_Castle silently celebrated, so ecstatic that he actually forgot to say something._

_"What, now is the time you'll choose to tell me you weren't serious?" She joked, slight fear in her voice._

_"No, no, no," He was quick to reply. "Of course I'm serious."_

_"Okay," She smiled, quickly looking down once she noticed Ryan and Esposito watching her. Sobering a bit, she told him, "I'm still at the precinct and there's a lot I have to do, so… can we talk later?"_

_"Of course, yeah. I'll call you later so we can talk details, okay?"_

_"Okay."_

_Once they hung up, both Beckett and Castle had a hard time wiping the smiles off their faces._

* * *

For the rest of the day, Beckett had tried her best to stay focused on the job and forget the fact that she was going on a date with Castle the following evening. However, every time the tiniest thought regarding such date had come to her mind, her heart had fluttered in joy; it was, afterall, a date with bestselling novelist Richard Castle – she was allowed to fangirl over this, right?

On the other hand, the fact that Richard Castle was a bestselling novelist also served as a reason in Kate's mind for her to question if the whole date thing had been a good idea. The detective wasn't comfortable with the idea of ending up in Page Six or any tabloid of choice – and, okay, even if Richard Castle's celebrity status wasn't exactly Brad Pitt famous, it wasn't as if she was going out with your average anonymous guy either. So, a good part of her day had also been spent worrying about the downsides of going out with Castle.

The only moment when the detective had actually been able to forget about her imminent date had been after talking to Lanie on the phone. The M.E. had called her friend squeaking about getting tickets for the Duran Duran concert at the Garden that same evening and babbling that it afforded them the perfect opportunity for a girls' night out and for Kate to show off her long legs as Lanie would show off her ample bosom.

Kate, laughing unashamedly at her friend's antics, had been unable to say no to that. Truth to be told, she was squeaking herself.

Duran Duran!

* * *

Both Lanie and Kate felt the cool breeze blowing as they made their way out of the cab and onto the pavement in 6th Avenue a couple of blocks away from Madison Square Garden. The area was bubbling with extra cars and pedestrians, in no doubt also thanks to the concert, and the couple of friends opted to walk their way to escape the traffic congestion.

The detective and the M.E. started their walk towards the Garden, chatting and laughing together, thankful for the chance to escape work, spend some time together and attend the concert. When they were still a few hundred yards away from the Garden, they could spot a few paparazzi at the entrance, waiting to ambush any celebrities that showed up. The taller brunette discreetly adjusted the hem of the short dark green bandage dress she was wearing and looked around taking notice of the crowd – mostly men and women in their thirties and forties, although she could spot a fair share of younger people mingling there as well, and all anonymous – while her friend jokingly complained that she almost never got a chance to see a celebrity up close.

As they were making their way into the Garden, Kate and Lanie heard the snaps and clicks coming from the paparazzi's cameras and immediately turned around to see who was causing the fuss.

Standing there for the cameras, with a super slim blonde in a barely there red dress in his arms, was none other than Richard Castle.

* * *

Once he believed they had stood there long enough to appease the paparazzi, Rick politely nodded at the photographers and, swiftly guiding his date with his hand on her upper back, started for the entrance. Making his way through the crowd and into the Garden, the writer spotted the unmistakable form of Kate Beckett by the second set of doors inside, walking ahead with a darker shorter woman wearing a purple backless dress –Dr. Parish, perhaps, his mind supplied.

Before he could properly think about what he was doing, he called out, "Kate!"

She seemed to stop for a brief moment, but then kept walking without turning around. Ignoring the funny look on his date's face, he tried again, louder this time. "Kate Beckett!"

Kate stopped walking, but it was the shorter woman who was by her side who turned around first – it _was_ Dr. Parish, his mind congratulated itself.

It was also Lanie who spoke first, rooted to her spot and pretending not to have noticed him before. "Castle?"

Walking towards the two of them, Rick smiled once he was within talking distance. "Dr. Parish, it's a pleasure to see you again."

"Please, no need for formalities. It's Lanie."

He nodded, with a pleased smile. Then, he turned to the other woman. "Hey, Kate."

If he had to guess what the detective would say to him simply from the look on her face, he would go with _'Please, no need for such intimacy. Call me Detective Beckett.'_

At least she was civil. "Hi, Castle," she replied impersonally, before extending her hand to the Candice Swanepoel clone on his side. "Nice to meet you. I'm Kate Beckett."

Kate noticed the way Castle promptly turned around to look at the blonde model beside him then, as if he had been surprised by his companion's presence. Before she could assess the meaning behind his behavior, she felt the Candice wannabe shaking her hand back. "Chloe Baker, "the date replied in a British accent. "It's a pleasure."

_Argh_, was all Kate could come up with in her mind.

"So, how do you all know each other?" the British asked.

Castle could tell that, although she had phrased her question to encompass Lanie as well, Chloe was really inquiring about his relationship with Beckett. "Well, Lanie is a medical examiner working for the City, and Kate is an NYPD detective. I consulted with them for a case a few months ago."

Rationally, Kate knew that Castle should not add something like 'and I've been trying to get Kate to go out with me since then and she finally said yes today' to his explanation, but, still, she could not help but feel irate and hurt that he was downplaying their connection. Had he not just earlier in the day asked her out to dinner the next evening?

Castle could tell that a myriad of thoughts and emotions were going through Kate's mind and heart from the look she had on her face. He wanted so badly to say something to assure her, but he had no idea what to do.

"That sounds so interesting," He heard Chloe say. "Ricky and I met through a mutual acquaintance in a party last month."

"That's great," He heard Kate reply, her voice not at all carrying out the excitement her words were supposed to inflict.

Considering that Castle could only stare at the two women making awkward conversation, Lanie – who had no idea what was actually going on, but could tell that Kate did not enjoy seeing Castle with another woman –, decided to join in. "Yes, it was really something. Just like this is certainly something too."

_Oh, the sarcasm_, Kate thought to herself. She would have smiled if she weren't so mad at the moment.

"Too bad we don't have time to chat," Lanie continued, taking hold of Beckett's forearm. "We really should go inside. Can't afford to miss the concert, right?!" She joked to their companions.

Chloe smiled politely. "Right."

Castle watched the scene unfolding in front of him and tried to catch up before Kate had left without him talking to her. "Actually, Chloe," He turned to his date, "would you mind going ahead on your own? I'll get us some drinks and join you in a sec." The writer finished his explanation looking straight into Kate's eyes.

The blonde looked from Castle to the other women standing there and, not wanting to come between whatever it was that was going on, she nodded, with a smile on her lips. "Of course. See you in there." She gently – and almost tentatively – touched Rick's biceps before turning to give Beckett and Lanie a parting smile and then walking towards the VIP area.

Beckett, however, did not want to hear whatever it was that Castle had to say. "We should go in as well, Lanie."

"Actually," The writer said, taking Kate's left hand, before adding in a quiet voice, "Can I talk to you?"

The detective removed her hand from his grip. "No. Not really."

Not wanting to do this in front of someone else, he turned to Lanie. "Lanie, would you mind going ahead on your own?"

"Lanie, don't do that." Kate cut in, turning to her friend. "Let's just go."

But the shorter brunette, completely ignoring her friend, turned to the writer. "Why, Castle? You're gonna buy me some drinks too?" She asked, mischievously.

He smiled, both shy and amused. "Sure. I can do that too."

Lanie, smiling back, said goodbye to Castle and told her friend that she would be waiting for her just inside before walking away.

Castle immediately turned to the detective. "So, I tried calling you before I left home but you didn't pick up."

Kate replied, annoyed, "Lanie had just arrived at my place, Castle. Not that it matters."

"But we're still on for tomorrow, right?"

The brunette scoffed loudly.

Before she could say what seemed to be on her mind, though – Castle was sure it wasn't anything pleasant – he tried again. "Look, why don't we just start over."

She took a deep breath. "What's the point?"

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. I came off as a –"

"Womanizer? An immature self-absorbed jackass?"

He laughed self-deprecatingly. "Something like that."

"Well, aren't you?" Kate retorted. He looked completely stunned, as if she had stabbed him with a proverbial knife. She didn't care, though – she was unbelievably mad at him. Noticing he hadn't corrected her, she twisted the proverbial knife in his gut then. "Right. So why start over?"

Castle was still floored, but attempted a joke. "Well, I may be immature and self-absorbed, but I'm not _that_ immature and self-absorbed." She scowled and turned to walk away, but he stopped her, gently holding her right hand. "Come on. Give me a chance. Let me make it up to you."

"Seriously? Are you hitting on me while on a date with someone else?" Beckett asked, voice filled with irritation and incredulity.

"I'm not on a date," He replied easily.

She gave him a pointed look.

"Well, it could be construed as a date, but it's not really. Chloe and I both know this won't go on for longer than tonight." Realizing how that sounded, Rick tried to mend fences. "Okay, that didn't sound –"

"Save it, Castle. I really don't care how you spend your nights."

Castle felt annoyance creeping up. Finally taking offense of her words, he spoke up, "You know what? I've asked you out over and over again until you said yes. And when you did, I gave you Saturday night!"

Kate seethed. "You _gave me_ Saturday night?"

He mentally and physically recoiled. "Okay, maybe that sounded better in my mind, but –"

She, on the other hand, metaphorically ran over him, ignoring his words. "What? Was I supposed to be thankful that the famous Richard Castle _gave me_ Saturday night to try to go to bed with me?"

"It's not about just taking you to bed. Why can't you just believe that I like you?!" Rick admitted. He took a few deep breaths, watching the brunette in front of him, a look of surprise on her face, before he said anything else. After a few moments, the author carried on. "Look, ever since we worked together, I've been thinking about you. At first, I thought it was just pure attraction – of course I also noticed that you were great at your job, smart, ethical, but at that time I didn't think I'd want anything more than dinner and… _you know_." He stopped talking, letting a sheepish smile show on his lips. "And once you told you had a boyfriend, I figured why bother, right? But then at the book store, we hadn't seen each other in a while and I realized I still felt excited about you."

Kate felt her cheeks burning up and her heart tightening. She opened her mouth in a clear attempt to say something to the author, but he never gave her a chance.

"Listen… you may not believe me, but I really want to go out with you. This thing tonight is just my agent's idea of making sure I get as much publicity as I can – you know, to help people remember that they have to buy my book. Plus, since my divorce, they're trying to establish my public persona again."

"By being a playboy?" She asked, disbelieving.

"Well, there are a lot of best-selling mystery novelists. One of the things that sets me apart from then is the fact that I'm a fun, young, single and good-looking author."

"You mean an annoying," she held up her index finger counting one, "young-_er_ than Patterson," her middle finger joined indicating two, "divorced twice," she added the ring finger in count of three, "and…" already holding up four fingers once the pinky followed automatically, Kate trailed off.

He smirked. "Having trouble refuting my handsome looks?"

She felt pressured and blushed again. "Don't gloat. Okay?"

His smirk grew wider, but he dropped the matter of her clear attraction to him. "Point is, this thing had been set for a while. And Chloe is just looking for some press coverage as well, so, really, you could say this is actually a business deal."

Eyes closed and face angled downwards, she tried to come up with a reply. "Yeah, but Castle…" She ended up saying nothing else.

Finally taking notice of her features, Rick realized the gorgeous woman before him was probably feeling outside of her element – she most likely wasn't used to dealing with some weird aspects of the lives of public figures. Thinking it was best to let this go for now, he simply said, "Okay."

When he didn't say anything else, she looked up at his face. "Okay?"

Glad to have her attention, he continued. "Okay, I won't push this now. We'll see each other tomorrow and, if need be, we'll discuss this then."

Kate backpedaled. "I'm not sure it's a good idea for us to go out tomorrow."

"Sure it is," He replied immediately, taking another small step towards her. "I'm not letting you back down of our date, Kate. And I'm not letting you go now, either."

"What do you mean?"

His smile was blinding. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

Castle left then, and Kate was even more confused. So lost in her own thoughts, the detective didn't take notice of the fact that her friend returned to her side.

"What was that all about?" Lanie said as she reached the other woman.

Startled, Kate looked over the M.E. "Oh, it's just… Castle being Castle."

The doctor then eyed her friend skeptically. "Uh-huh."

Kate felt busted, but masked it. "Weren't you supposed to be waiting for me inside?"

Lanie didn't even blink. "Girl, that boy wants you."

The off-duty detective laughed. "He wants everything wearing a dress, Lanie."

"Yeah, right," Lanie pushed. "Look, you may try and hide as long as you want, but I know you like him."

Shaking her head while she stared at the floor, Kate blushed. "Lanie…"

The woman in question crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave her friend a pointed look. "What? You're gonna tell me you blush like that for any guy?"

Kate blushed harder, but said nothing.

"Plus, if I had guy looking like that after me?" Lanie carried on. "Oh, mama!"

At that moment, to Kate's relief (and she could see the irony in that), Castle reappeared –accompanied by a man the girls hadn't seen before. Smiling at them, the writer went over the introductions. "Joe, these are Kate and Lanie. Ladies, this is Joe Reid. He's the promoter for this concert."

As soon as they had all shaken hands with a round of polite _nice to meet you's_, Joe addressed the group with a smile. "If you would all follow me."

Castle and the girls immediately followed, but soon Kate leaned over to the writer and quietly asked, "What's going on?"

"I'm being nice." He smiled.

"Nice, Castle?" Kate snorted.

"Yeah. Don't look so surprised." His smile grew wider. "I got you two in the VIP area."

Lanie, who was standing by Kate's left side, spoke up, impressed. "You didn't. Oh my God!"

He laughed. "You're welcome," He replied just as they reached the entrance to the reserved area.

"Why did you do this?" Beckett asked in a quiet tone so only the writer would be able to hear.

"I told you I wasn't letting you go tonight," He whispered in her right ear. "This way you get to enjoy the concert and I get to watch you have a great time." He smiled genuinely at her when she looked at him. Then, he spoke again, in a louder voice. "Well, I hope you two have fun."

"You're not staying with us?" Lanie asked, kind of disappointed once she noticed the author easing into his goodbye – she had some serious plans for these two.

"Well, I don't want to intrude on your girls night out," He told her, grinning. "And, anyway, I have to, uh…"

"Go back to your date?" There was still a sting in Kate's voice.

"My non-date date," He corrected. "But yeah."

"Oh, come on Castle, don't tell me you'll put up a fight if the superhot date wants to go to bed with you."

Sensing the mood between her two companions, Lanie excused herself. "Okay, I'm going to checkout that bar. Be back when the air is breathable again over here."

"Lanie…" Kate tried to stop her friend, who was already moving towards the bar, but someone else stopped her.

"Kate." Castle interrupted, taking her right hand in his.

"Castle, seriously." She sighed, eyes closed, trying her best to fight off the feelings his touch rose inside her. "Go back to your non-date date or whatever that is. Take her home, have some fun. That's what you want right now and that's not something I can give you."

"Stop," He said, closing his own eyes and taking a deep breath. Once he opened them again, he was a bit more centered. "Just stop, okay? Chloe is not really what I want, okay? I just told you that."

The honesty she thought she could hear in his voice got the brunette to look up into his eyes. "What do you want?"

He took a step toward her then, leaving only a few inches of space between them. "You know what I want."

Feeling his eyes bore into her soul, Kate looked down. "I think there are a ton of drop-dead gorgeous women willing to give you what you want."

Looking over her head into nothing in particular, Castle addressed her concerns. "Look, I admit going out with a million of superhot girls is really fun and cool, but I want something different." He looked back at Kate, trying to make eye contact with her. "Something real."

"I doubt a recently divorced millionaire wants a commitment again so soon, Castle," She replied, her green eyes still downcast as she attempted to avoid looking into his blue ones.

On top of everything else, she hated the vulnerability her whole demeanor showed now.

"My last marriage seemed like a good idea, but I ended up not being what my ex-wife was looking for. And somehow she wasn't what I was looking for either." The author gently touched her chin to lift her head to him. "I wanted something genuine. Something that felt magical." He paused for a brief moment, admiring the beauty in Kate's features. "I still want that. And when I set my mind on something, I keep pursuing it until I either get it or am told I won't ever get it. So… you think there's a chance I might get what I want?"

"Maybe you're just trying too hard to find what you want and you're not thinking straight."

Rick was disconcerted. "What do you mean?"

"Castle, I've gone through a lot these past few years. Hell, this past few months have been hectic enough." She sighed in frustration. "I'm not sure how a date with me might help you achieve what you want."

Understanding her hesitation, he tentatively threw a charming smile in her direction. "Well, I think this is a discussion better left for our date tomorrow."

She let out a smirk for what it seemed the first time since she had gotten to this concert, and he was glad to have managed to break the serious mood for a while.

Kate couldn't help but feel somewhat proud that he seemed so interested that he was still pursuing her. Smiling shyly in return, she told him, "You're not giving this up, huh?"

Once he noticed she was close to accepting the whole date thing again, his smile turned full-blown. "Well, I've come this far… wouldn't dare to stop now."

The famous author and the anonymous detective were quiet for a few moments, just studying each other's features, staring into each other's eyes. After a while that seemed like days for them, Kate felt more than saw Rick inching closer to her face, until his lips were on the corner of her own.

"Until tomorrow, detective," He said, once he removed his lips from her cheek. And with that, he turned away and disappeared into the crowd.

Kate, speechless, could only touch the spot on her cheek where Castle's lips had been with her trembling fingers and feel the hint of a smile creep up on her lips.

And then she heard Lanie's sardonic voice behind her. "You're right. That man wants you just like he wants any of the other girls in here."

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**A/N: **__**I'm so sorry for the delay! I won't even try to justify why I'm so far behind, but rest assured that now we're good to go again. By the way, **__**I had planned to write date night into this chapter as well, but I haven't finished writing it and this was a decent-sized chapter as it was, so I felt it was best to stop here and give you all something already! **_

_**Next chapter will follow sometime this week, promise.**_

_**And, of course, thank you all for your response to this story. Hope you'll still stick with it ;)**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Okay, I know it's pretty ridiculous, but here I am – BEGGING you to review. Just this once. **_

_**I'm not sure I managed to write this chapter exactly the way I wanted it and I could use a little feedback to understand what worked and what didn't. I was so anxious to get this out as soon as possible and not make you guys wait I even bypassed my supportive beta – sorry, BURN3!**_

_**So, reviews? Pretty please?**_

_**On a side note: I'm close to 100 followers. Wow. Never expected to get 100 people reading my first fic. Really, thank you ;)**_

* * *

While Martha poured a glass of wine for herself in the kitchen, Alexis lounged on the living room couch with her iPod (book, for once, forgotten on her lap) and the both of them watched in unison as the man in their family touched his hair self-consciously then checked his pockets for his keys, wallet and phone, going about getting ready for his date this Saturday night – the fourth one this week.

"Who is the _blonde du jour_?" The flamboyant woman asked her granddaughter in a whisper as she settled herself on the couch, holding the glass of wine steadily in her hand and picking up the sheets of paper that she had left earlier on the coffee table.

Somehow, the two redheads had managed to make a sort of family tradition out of watching Rick going by his 'fourth stage of post-divorce grieving', as Martha had put it.

Alexis's reply was out of script this time, though. "I don't know." After a beat, she added with a slight frown. "Actually, I have no idea where he's going or what he's doing tonight."

As grandmother and granddaughter looked at each other in question, trying to figure out how come this time they didn't have any information on one of Castle's dates, the man himself addressed them with a smile. "You two going to stay in tonight?"

Turning to her father, Alexis replied to his inquiry nonchalantly, "Paige and Lauren are coming over for a girls' night in."

"Right," He acknowledged the information she had already provided him with earlier in the day. "And you, Mother?"

She pointed at the pages on her lap and raised the glass of wine in her left hand. "I'm just going to stay in, drink some wine and prepare for the audition I have on Monday."

"Quiet evening, huh?" He mused.

"We all need it once in a while," The older woman ventured. "And what are you doing tonight?"

"I'm just going to dinner," He replied with an easy smile that reached his eyes and no further information.

Martha stared at her son expectantly, as if willing him to say anything more about his plans. After a whole seven seconds and no words out of her son's mouth, she tried again, "Dinner, huh? With whom?"

"Just a friend," He told his mother casually, once again refraining from divulging anything else. "Well, you two enjoy your evening. I'll see you later, okay?"

With a kiss to the teen's forehead and another to the older woman's cheek, Rick walked out of the loft, leaving the redheads mystified by his sudden secrecy.

Usually, he couldn't wait to brag about his dates.

"What just happened?" Alexis asked, once her father was out of earshot.

"Beats me, Kiddo." Martha took a sip of her wine. "But, whoever she is, this one is definitely different."

* * *

He was right on time. Not a second earlier, not a beat late. A quarter before eight, on the dot, her intercom was buzzing.

He was right on time, but she was _almost_ ready.

Nude pumps in hands, Kate hurried out of her bedroom barefoot and still adjusting her dress to answer the intercom. "Castle?"

"_Yeah."_

"I need a minute," She said through the interphone while putting on her shoes. "Would you like to come up?"

"_Sure,"_ The writer's voice sounded uncertain and excited at the same time.

"Second floor, second door to your right," she directed after buzzing him.

Knowing she didn't have much time before he arrived at her floor, the detective unlocked the door before rushing back to her bedroom. Looking at herself in the mirror, she went over the checklist in her mind to see what was missing – hair and make-up: done; dress and shoes: in place; jewelry: check; purse: on the bed. As she stared at the clutch bag she had picked out for tonight and contemplated whether or not to take her gun and shield as well as a pack of condoms with her (_you never know if you'll need any of those items on a first date_, her mind supplied), Kate heard the knock on her door.

He was here already.

Shouting _"it's open!"_ over her shoulders, the brunette quickly bypassed her gun and shield and stuffed a single condom into her bag. _Not that I'm going to need it_, she argued internally. _It's just in case._

She took a moment to admire herself in the sleeveless trapeze cocktail dress she was wearing, the exquisite sequined mock neckline blending beautifully with the dress's metallic nude in true Badgley Mischka form – _so what if the dress had been expensive? It was totally worth it!_ –, outfit complemented by the pumps which highlighted her long legs.

She was good to go.

Turning off the light, she grabbed her clutch bag and walked out of the bedroom and into her living room, where she was met with a snazzy Richard Castle, wearing a black suit and matching shirt with a purple tie, the whole ensemble sophisticatedly stating 'Armani'.

"You look absolutely stunning," Kate heard him complimenting her, which snapped her out of her short-lived reverie. Taking in the adoring smile on his face, she thanked him sincerely, with a faint blush to her cheeks.

For his part, Castle had been mesmerized the moment she had stepped into view, his mind immediately at work trying to catalog her entire appearance – the short hair discreetly clipped back on the left side while the rest of it was left down in soft waves, the elegant eyeliner combined with the matte dark red lipstick... and then there was that dress. That cocktail dress that proved that Kate Beckett was seductive and tasteful at the same time.

"You look great yourself," He heard her say, now his turn to be shaken out of his stupor.

"I have my moments," Rick remarked with a smile. "I've even been told I'm ruggedly handsome." At that, he smirked smugly.

"I wouldn't go that far," Beckett quipped.

The novelist laughed, already enjoying this carefree – even if a bit nervous – version of the lovely detective. Then, as if a light bulb had flicked on in his mind, he announced, "Oh! I brought…" He quickly turned around to catch something on her coffee table, "…these for you."

With that, he handed her a small but beautiful floral arrangement with red roses, pink and lilac peonies and white baby's breath, all graciously seated in a blue vase with plenty of green fillers.

How had she missed that sitting on her coffee table when she had walked in the room?

Nevertheless, Kate could not contain the warm smile on her lips as she took the flowers from him. "They are perfect, Castle." She gently smelled them before walking towards the dining table, where she set the arrangement. "Thank you."

He smiled back at her before asking, "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," she replied, holding the clutch bag self-consciously.

"Then let's go," he told her, taking her arm in his.

* * *

They had been making polite conversation during the car ride, warming up to their evening together, so Beckett hadn't exactly paid attention to where they were going – she had tried asking him as soon as they left her place, but Castle had only replied with a _"you'll see when we get there"_. Now, the town car had come to a stop on Christopher St., and Kate turned with curious eyes to look at the man sitting on her right, failing to recognize why they had stopped on this particular part of the city. She hadn't even noticed before that they were in the West Village.

Urged by the secretive smile the author had on his lips as he pressed his entire upper body against the backseat to grant her access to the car window on his side, the detective looked out through the glass, suddenly noticing a small restaurant outside, its burgundy walls and warm yellow lights adding to the intimate atmosphere oozing out of the place.

Rick marveled at the way Kate's features morphed from questioning into captivated the moment she took notice of the tiny trattoria in front of them. Once she turned her eyes to him again, he grinned at her. "Welcome to I Sodi."

Kate's eyes sparkled, but Rick was suddenly unable to properly read the look she had on her face. Afraid he had done something wrong, the author refrained from opening the car door. "Everything okay?"

She shook her head more at herself than at him, enigmatic smile on her lips. "Yeah, it's just…" She trailed off. Gathering her thoughts, she resumed. "I thought you'd take me somewhere high-status. You know, try to impress me with something upscale."

Still struggling to assess her reaction, he spoke. "I could, but you don't strike me as the kind of woman who would want all that for our first date."

Although Castle had tried to sound confident, Kate could hear the questioning tone in his voice, as if he needed validation that he had made the right choice. "You thought right, Castle. This is much better."

Rick beamed, relief evident in his eyes. "I'm glad."

The truth is, when Kate accepted his dinner invitation two days earlier, the writer had immediately done everything she just told him she had expected him to do – he booked a limo ride, arranged for drinks at Flûte, made last minute reservations at Per Se, set the whole nine yards for their date. It wasn't until their conversation the night before that he realized that, instead of impressed, she could maybe feel uneasy with the attention that going to these high profile places with a famous author would most likely attract.

"But don't worry," The author added. "The food here is amazing. It's one of my favorite restaurants in town." Stepping out of the town car, he extended his hand to Kate, who was still sitting in the backseat. "Shall we?"

She took his hand with a mega watt smile. "Let's go."

As the two of them walked into the tiny Italian restaurant – there couldn't be more than ten tables inside –, the chef, who was just walking away from the table in front of the door, immediately greeted them. "Rick, you came!"

Okay, maybe she just greeted him.

"Told you I would, Rita." Castle gave her an easy smile. "Thanks so much for having a table for us on such short notice," he said, running his right hand over Kate's back, soothing her nerves.

_How did he know to do that_, she wondered.

"No problem. It's a pleasure to have you here. And you finally brought a date!"

The chef's sincere smile immediately cleared the air for Beckett and she couldn't help but grin back. Well, it did help that Rita had made it clear Castle had never brought a date to this place – made Kate feel special.

As if reading her thoughts, the writer stared into Kate's eyes as he said earnestly, "Well, this one is special, you see."

Unable to stop herself from smiling back at him, the detective wondered, once again, _how did he know to do that_.

Rita inadvertently interrupted them, taking over the proper introductions and then leading them to their table, which was the most secluded one available. Their waiter had come over, politely presented them with wine and meal options and, after taking their orders, left them to enjoy each other's company. Finally.

Kate couldn't help but think that this had the makings to be the best date ever.

Rick thought it already was.

* * *

They were enjoying their tiramisu (prepared to perfection, as the whole dinner had been) when Beckett felt her phone vibrating in her clutch bag. Looking apologetically at her companion, she gently wiped her lips with the linen napkin before answering the call – from the precinct, nonetheless.

A few _right_, _great_, _sure_ and _no problem's_ later, the detective hung up. When she looked up from her phone into Castle's eyes contritely, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Is there a problem?"

"That was Ryan. They boys caught a break in the case we're working on and are bringing the suspect in."

Her tone indicated that it was not simply an update call. "Don't you have the night off?"

"I do." She sighed. "I do, Castle, but this is my case."

"So what? Why don't you just say you can't come in now?"

"Because…" she stopped, taking a long breath. "Because, usually, I'd come in."

He realized what she was trying to say. "Because this is what they expect of you and if you say you can't, then they'll start prying and you don't want people to know you were out with me."

His voice was steady and calm, but there was just a hint of hurt underlying in his tone to catch her attention. "It's not that I don't want them to know I was out with you, Rick. It's just how I am. I'm private. I'm cautious." She tried to catch his gaze. "As a woman, sometimes it's hard to be respected as a detective and I don't want any gossips about my personal life to cloud their assessment of me professionally. And that would be a bit harder if the whole department learned I couldn't go in because I was on a date with the world renowned mystery novelist Rick Castle. That's all they would talk about."

"I get it," He said with a slight pout. At her pointed look, he amended, "I think I do, at least." Taking her hand, he questioned, "But how long will we have to hide?"

His question genuinely caught her off guard. "How long…?"

"Yeah. I mean, we can't hide forever, right?"

"Forever…?" She parroted, looking at their joined hands.

Realizing her perplexity, he tentatively ran his thumb over the back of her hand and smiled. "Look. This was a great date, right?"

She nodded, smiling bashfully.

"And I'd like for this to happen again. Soon." As her smile widened, he grew bolder. "And a lot of times after that as well."

She brought her lower lip between her teeth and bit lightly. "I think I'd like that too."

His smile was blinding. "Well, let me get the check and then I'll drop you off."

* * *

As they walked up to her doorstep, Rick's left hand comfortably seated on her lower back, Kate had a hard time thinking about why she had initially deemed going out with him a bad idea. Turning to face him once they reached her door, she said, "I really did have a great time. Thanks for insisting in this."

"Thanks for caving in eventually." He retorted without missing a beat.

They smiled at one another, not saying anything else. After a few moments of just watching each other, the writer softly brought his left hand off from the spot in her waist to where it had slid when she turned around and cupped her right cheek, watching for any signs on her features.

All he saw was shyness and expectation mingled in the detective's beautiful greenish eyes.

Slowly, he leaned in and felt her drawing closer as well, their lips only an inch apart now. He sensed more than saw her hands coming to rest on his sides, their gaze still locked, never faltering, not even when he tenderly ran his thumb over her cheek. For her part, Kate was feeling ridiculous for the way her heart fluttered just from him looking at her. That didn't stop her from savoring the moment, though.

Only when Rick's hand moved from her cheek to smooth her hair back and his lips drew even closer to her own did her eyes come near to closing, but even then her gaze somehow still seeped through her semi-shut eyelids. His still free right hand then came to rest on her lower back and, as she felt the warmth from his whole body coming to meet hers, her eyes finally shut.

Succumbing to his own instincts, Castle closed the minute gap that still existed between them and touched his own lips to Beckett's, in a move that was at first timid, but that grew feverish and demanding as soon as he heard her dropping her clutch bag to the floor with an unconscious moan coming from her throat. Their hands started roaming of their own volition, searching and learning the ways to the other's body, and when she broke the kiss to run her lips over his jaw, he turned them both until she was pressed against her front door. When she felt the full contact of his body on hers, the best Kate could do was muffle the moan that escaped her lips in his neck.

She was no longer thinking; now, she was only feeling.

And it felt amazing.

Rick groaned, pressing himself to her body even harder, now as close to each other as physically possible. It suddenly occurred to him that they were still outside in her hallway and that, unfortunately, she was still supposed to go to the precinct.

Then again, if she wasn't stopping him, who was he to argue with her?

As one of her hands found its way under his dress shirt on his back, Rick closed his eyes and bit down on her neck, trying to come up with any and every single thought that would keep him from twining her legs around his waist and pounding their way into her apartment, where he would –

The chime from her phone interrupted his thoughts.

Grumbling in irritation, frustration and pure agony, Beckett put some distance between herself and the panting writer in front of her before she answered her phone, "What?"

She could only hope her breathlessness wouldn't show on her voice – his darkened eyes were doing nothing to help her refrain from jumping him, though. "I'm on my way," she told the person on the other side of the line while still staring into his eyes. "I had to stop at home." Another beat of silence on her part and then she added, "I didn't have my shield and gun with me."

She had to physically turn away from Castle so she would be able to concentrate on her phone call.

When she did so, the novelist was greeted with the sight of her naked shoulders staring at him. "Oh, God, just kill me now," He muttered.

She turned back to glare at him, running her unoccupied hand over her neck until she realized he had undone the buttons on her mock neckline. _That's why my dress feels loose_, she realized. _When did he do that?_

The surprise she felt must have shown on her face, because then Castle was giving her a full Cheshire cat smile. Before she could admonish him, though, she said into the phone, "Another twenty minutes. Okay, see you then."

She hung up her phone and the two of them were left alone once again, silence and want filling the air.

"I should…" Beckett started, pointing back to her door.

"Yeah, I'll just…" Castle pointed back himself, towards the elevator. But then he was walking up to her again. "Can I call you tomorrow?" He asked as he settled both of his hands on her waist.

Kate smiled, amused, as she circled his neck with her arms. "Yes, Castle, you can call me tomorrow."

"Good," He said before slowly kissing her thoroughly. When they broke apart, he pressed his forehead against hers. "Call me if you need any help with your case."

She chuckled. "What, now all of the sudden you're a consultant with the NYPD?"

"Hey, I can be pretty useful," He argued in mock hurt.

"I'm sure you think so," she quipped. Stealing another kiss from his lips, she added, "You really need to go."

"Can't resist me, huh?"

"Right now, I don't want to resist you," She answered, surprising him. "Which is why you need to go."

He kissed her once more, harder this time, but put a stop to their embrace before things could get out of hand again. "Until tomorrow, Kate."

"'Til then, Castle."

Beckett watched intently as Rick made his way into the elevator, grinning when he waved jovially at her. Shaking her head after he disappeared through the doors, she picked up the clutch bag forgotten on the hallway floor to get her apartment keys. Once she searched inside the bag, she came across the single condom she had stuffed there, the rubber mocking her.

She sighed. _Should have gone with the gun and shield._

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: I just have to say thank you to everyone who indulged me in my blatant begging and reviewed last chapter. It definitely meant a lot! By the way, even though I said "just this once" last time, you're all more than welcome to keep reviewing ;)**_

_**Seriously. Review!**_

_**Oh, I'd like to thank BURN3 for all the help, keeping me grounded and making this story better. Also, I'm especially grateful to Tree23, who has been helping me these past few weeks via long rants and discussions on Castle and even with everyday conversations. This story would not have been improving if it weren't for you. Thank you!**_

* * *

When Rick got back home around 11:30 PM after his date with Kate had been interrupted, he found the coffee table pushed back to the corner of the living room, almost glued to the black baby grand piano by the window, and his daughter and her two best friends sprawled out on the living room floor, amidst popcorn bowls, chocolate bars and bottles of diet soda.

The girls were so focused on the movie playing on the enormous projector screen in front of them that it took the writer's greetings to startle them out of their movie trance.

"Oh, _The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants_… boy, am I glad to see you girls here," He said towards Paige and Lauren, with an easy smile and a playful wiggle of his eyebrows. "I've had to sit through this movie at least ten times by now!"

The 14-year olds chuckled as they explained to 'Mr. Castle' that they were having a teen movie marathon, with the original _Sisterhood_ movie and its sequel, followed by the _High School Musical _film series.

"Now that sounds like a special all-nighter," He commented.

"And how was your date, Dad?" Alexis questioned, changing subjects. "You're home surprisingly early. For your standards, that is," She added in mock innocence.

"My date went just fine, thank you. Don't you worry about my hours."

"A date, huh? Finally, he concedes some information!" Martha voiced as she went down the stairs.

Rick looked aghast. Turning towards Alexis, he exclaimed, "You tricked me!"

"You're the one who taught me that!" She replied, smiling.

"So, Richard," The older woman continued once she reached the ground floor of the loft, "tell us about the girl."

"Mother, you know I don't kiss and tell," the man said, walking into the kitchen and clearly trying to evade this line of questioning.

Martha laughed in sarcasm, "Richard, I don't know whom you're trying to fool, but it's not going to work with us."

"Perfect use of 'whom', Mother. I'm impressed."

"Don't try to change the subject, Richard. We all know you usually can't wait to tell us about your dates, so you can drop the hush-hush attitude."

Alexis's friends were thoroughly entertained by this whole Rodger-Castle interaction, and the young redhead herself was attentively waiting for her father's retort.

Rick's reply as he picked up a bottle of water from the fridge, although unexpected, did not disappoint. "Well, than it must tell you something that I'm not willing to share any further information on this matter, right?"

And with _good night's_ directed at all the astounded occupants in the room, the writer left for his study, intent on getting some writing done – his complete draft manuscript was due in a couple of weeks and he still had about ten chapters to go.

At least this evening had provided him with plenty inspiration to write.

Rick smiled. He really believed that, for once, he would be able to meet his deadline with Gina, thus avoiding any chance of death by enraged publisher.

He still needed to come up with a name for fictional Kate Beckett, though.

* * *

Beckett did not have a chance to appreciate the aftermath of her date the same way Castle did.

Once she got to the precinct, the detective immediately went into work mode, discussing the case and with Ryan and Esposito for a while, trying to anticipate what the suspect they now had in custody – the victim's driver – would argue before actually going in to interrogate him.

And then, after questioning their suspect, she was sure they had caught the wrong guy. There was just no way this man, a 5"10 skinny 24 year-old would have been able to strangle the victim – a six-foot tall, solid built, healthy 30-year old man – without restraining the latter. And if that wasn't enough, the suspect had an alibi, which she was sure would be proven good when they checked. There was just no way.

Put off, the three detectives called it a night and agreed to reconvene at the 12th at 8:30 AM the following day.

* * *

Castle rolled over in his bed to check the time on the bedside alarm clock – almost 4:15 PM. Sighing and stretching, he remained lying in bed, gathering up the courage to get up and face the rest of the day, and his thoughts once again drifted to Kate Beckett.

He had spent the whole night up writing nonstop, managing to finish about two chapters before finally succumbing to sleep at around ten o'clock this morning, all because the events of the night before were imprinted in his mind. And now he was still thinking about the detective?

He felt ridiculous. He was whipped.

Yet, he knew he couldn't help it.

Castle was intrigued by Kate Beckett. She wasn't like any other woman he had ever met, and at the same time she was like the best of his exes rolled into one.

For starters, she was gorgeous – and that was a pattern Rick was most certainly proud of. More than that, she was a strong, intelligent woman who knew how to be sexy without being vulgar, which had appealed to him in women like his ex-wife Gina and his former muse Sophia Turner – and also like the CIA agent Sophia Turner, Kate's profession made her dangerously sensual, which was a great bonus. Unlike Gina and Sophia, though, Kate seemed self-sufficient without being self-centered – not that those exes were bad people per se, but it just seemed to him that the detective was more… caring, dare he say? More compassionate and kind, from the way she interacted with the victims' families and friends, for instance. And those qualities reminded him more of his college girlfriend, Kyra Blaine, the only woman he actually regretted losing.

Last but not least, if the way she had teased him back in September when they worked together and their hallway rendezvous the night before were any indication, Kate Beckett could be as fun and wild as his first ex-wife Meredith and the tons of super hot girls he had been involved with for shorter periods.

If not more.

Rick yawned and stretched again in his bed. He was in awe. How could this woman be as serious as a heart attack one moment and then as carefree as she had been during their date? How could she be as tough as she was with suspects only to be so tender with the victims' loved ones? What turned her into this remarkable woman she was now?

The novelist in him, always paying attention and storing information for later use, suddenly recalled guessing (quite accurately, it seemed) that she had become a cop because she had lost someone she loved.

Was that it? Was a personal tragedy responsible for Kate's sense of justice and empathy, for her sober personality that most of the times hid the lighthearted person underneath?

And who was this person she lost? A sibling? One of her parents? Her first love?

Kate Beckett could have a bit of his exes in her, but she somehow was even more than that.

She was an enigma.

An enigma he wanted to learn. An enigma he wanted to solve.

His mind set, Rick rolled over on the bed again, this time to pick up his phone, and selected the detective's number. He heard her picking up on the first ring.

"Beckett."

_By-the-book Beckett_, he recognized the tone in her voice. He could even picture her face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she looked over the evidence in front of her. Smiling, he greeted her, "Hey, it's me."

The detective – who had in fact her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she looked over the evidence strewn over the table in front of her –, fought the smile that threatened to appear on her face upon hearing his voice and greeted back in a softer tone, "Oh, hey."

_And that's 'relaxed Kate'_, Rick realized, grinning. "Told you I'd call," he announced.

"You did," She replied, and he could hear the smile on her voice.

Before she said anything else, though, he heard some noise in the background, like a door opening, and some indistinct voices before he could make out Beckett's own voice telling whoever it was that she 'would be right there', and then he picked up the sound of a door closing.

"Are you in the precinct?"

"Yeah," Kate replied, sounding tired.

"Still working on the case from last night?"

"Yeah."

"What happened to the suspect you arrested then?"

"It didn't pan out," She admitted.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Don't have time. New lead came up and we're going to check it out now. Can I call you back later?"

"You have to actually work on a Sunday?" He said before he could hide the whine in his voice. _Oh, well_, he thought. _Better whine away. _"Who works Sundays?!"

Kate smirked. "Plenty of people, Castle. Doctors, restaurant chefs, firefighters, journalists, dog walkers, police detectives... the list goes on and on."

"All work and no play makes the detective a dull girl."

"Yeah, well, I'm not all work, Rick," She purred his name out. "Thought I proved that to you last night."

Ah, that's a tone he hoped he would never stop hearing – _salacious Kate_. Deciding to play her game, he scoffed, "Briefly. Which is why I'm calling now, actually. I was thinking 'second date'. How does that sound?"

"Appealing," She hummed, still in wicked mode. But, all too soon, she settled back into her detective persona. "But I have to go now, sorry. I'll call you when I get a chance, okay?"

"Okay," he pouted. "Good luck with your case!"

"Bye," She said before ending the call.

After relishing the comfort of his mattress for a few more minutes, Rick finally got out of bed, deciding to start a quest for food. He expected to find his mother and daughter – or at least one of them – in the living room, but all he was greeted with when he left his bedroom was an empty apartment and silence.

Well, that and a note on the counter letting him know there were leftovers from lunch in the fridge and that Alexis had gone to Paige's and Martha was out with some theater friends.

He went for the leftovers then, but barely had time to start heating them before his phone rang.

This, however, wasn't a call as fun as the last one. This one was Gina, telling him she had just emailed him some comments on the chapters he had given her almost two weeks earlier and that she needed the revised version by Tuesday morning.

Once he hung up, he sighed, resigned.

Apparently, mystery writers also worked on Sundays.

* * *

The following couple of days went by with plenty of work for Beckett – all of the leads in the case she had been working on had resulted in dead ends and, to make matters worse, another body had been found on Monday morning. So, now it was already Tuesday evening, she had two open cases in her hands and no new leads – she hadn't even managed to contact the second victim's family yet.

The lack of useful evidence was starting to really get to her.

The detective was so focused on her cases that, as usual, she had been neglecting anything that wasn't work-related, which accounted for her surprise when she found the text from Castle on her phone that evening.

'_You okay? You never called'_, it said.

Running her hands over her face, she pushed the file on the desk in front of her away and set back on her chair, getting herself comfortable to call the writer.

"Were you purposefully waiting for me to crack to call me back, Detective?" She heard the male voice greet her the moment he picked up the call.

"Hey, Castle. I'm sorry, just things have been hectic at work. I'm actually still at the precinct."

"Since Sunday?!"

She laughed before cranking her neck. "No, but it certainly feels like it."

"No luck with your case?"

"No. And to make matters worse, now there's been a second murder."

"Really? Are they connected?" He asked, interest clear in his voice.

"It's an ongoing investigation, Castle. I can't share this information with you," She admonished.

"But I can help you!"

The brunette smirked, amused. "Don't you have your own work to worry about or something?"

"Actually, yes." He replied, sobered. "My publisher gave me two weeks to deliver the final manuscript for my next novel."

"And what's the next adventure for Derrick Storm like?"

Deciding turnabout was fair play, he told her, "You know, it's still an unpublished book, Detective. I can't share this information with you."

She chuckled. "Is that so?"

"Yes. But don't worry, if you're a good girl, I'll even sign a copy for you once it's launched. I know you'd like that, being a fan and all." She could hear the arrogant teasing quality of his voice through the line.

Oh, how she hated that he had figured out she had gone to one of his signings.

Determined to knock that cockiness out of him, she asked in a sultry tone, "And what if I'm a bad girl?"

He choked. "Uh…"

Before he had a chance to clear his head, she moved on, trying to clear her voice of any sign of laughter, "You're too easy, Castle. That's no fun."

"I'm plenty fun," It was all he could come up with at that moment.

He was still trying to form coherent sentences when he heard her voice on the other side of the line directed at someone who was in the precinct with her and then directed at him, "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Wait," He pleaded.

"Yes?" She humored him.

"I have this… dinner party I have to attend this Friday."

"And…?"

"And I was wondering if you'd go with me."

She pondered for a moment how to deal with his request, before answering in a low voice, "Castle, I can't."

"Why not?" He asked, tone so serious and honest he didn't seem like the same man who acted like a child at Christmas sometimes.

"Because… it's too soon." As the line remained silent, she continued, "I know this is a casual request for you, but I'm not used to being seen with a public figure, even if it's in an intimate event."

He tried to appease her, "Oh, it's not an intimate event."

Of course, that didn't help at all. "Even worse, Rick. I mean, I'm sure you don't see a problem in attending public events with a lot of different women, but I need my private life to stay private or it will interfere with my work. I told you that last week."

"I know, I just thought that maybe this could be a way for you to slowly get used to being seen with me," He explained, sounding like a repentant little boy even to his own ears.

"Maybe we should get to know each other a little bit more before you decide to break me into high society with you, Castle," She replied, hoping to sound understanding at least.

He could see her point, but complained anyway, "Spoilsport."

She chuckled, glad to see he had accepted her reasoning, before easing into their banter once again, "I'm sure you can manage going solo to this dinner party."

"Fine. But don't complain when you find out that women were fighting for my affections because I showed up alone."

She rolled her eyes at his pretend smugness. "I'm sure I'll live."

After a few moments of companionable silence, he spoke up, "Call me when you're free and then I'll take you out for something more inconspicuous."

"That would be nice," She admitted. After a beat, she ventured, "Do you want to try tomorrow?"

"I can't… it's poker night at the Commissioner's house," He justified.

"Really? The Commissioner, Castle? Want to tell me he's also a fan?"

"Who isn't?!" He jested.

He could feel her rolling her eyes at him.

"You know, if you want, you can come with me to this shindig," He added mockingly, already knowing her answer.

"I think I'll pass," She retorted. "I'll let you know when I'm free again. I do have to go now."

"Okay," He relented. "You sure you don't want my help with your cases?"

"I'm sure," She replied, amused. "Bye, Castle."

"Bye," He told her before hanging up.

* * *

Wednesday flew by with a lot of work and not enough leads for New York's finest. Beckett and the boys had been working nonstop on both open cases on their hands – they at least had been able to learn that the second murder victim was the first victim's girlfriend, which made both cases connected –, but, so far, they were still a long way from finding out who killed them.

The only thing that made her feel better about her day was the series of texts from Castle later in the evening. It seemed that her Captain was also in attendance at the Commissioner's poker night – a new addition to their game, Rick told her –, and that, soon enough, Montgomery was giving Castle a hard time about pretty much anything the writer did or said.

Dropping the case file and the Chinese take out on the table to reach for her phone when it chimed yet again, she read Castle's fourth message that evening: _"So, Roy's now bragging about how his best detective (that's you, in case you're wondering) got me to follow her around like a puppy during a case without falling for my charms."_

She laughed and typed back a reply. _"It must be killing you not being able to say we went out last week."_

Kate didn't even bother to go back to the case file as she waited for his text. Less than a minute later, the message came through. _"It's only killing my reputation. The guys are loving the idea of a woman saying no to me. You'd better make up for it soon, Detective. Otherwise I'll be forced to end your reputation instead."_

She bit her lower lip before deciding on what to write back. _"Don't tell on me yet. I promise I'll make it worth your while."_

She only got one more message from him after that. _"So far, you already are."_

* * *

By Friday evening, some solid evidence had finally emerged on the cases.

Beckett was out buying dinner for the team – her turn this week – when she got a call from Esposito, explaining that Lanie (_bless her_) had been able to pull off saliva from the second victim's cheek, most likely from where the killer had spit on the girl's face, and that the lab had finally gotten around to testing the sample.

And they got a match in the system.

Beckett was running into the bullpen in time to catch Esposito talking to Ryan, "…rich guy with a record from his bad boy days. Nothing major on it, though," The Hispanic man was saying as he read over the file, "Disorderly conduct, resisting arrest… one count for possession too."

"Who's this guy?" The female detective asked as she reached the boys.

"Hey, Beckett," Esposito greeted her before running over the information again. "Mason William Archibald, 41. Businessman, lives alone on his loft at the Upper East Side. Our vic's family said they dated for about two months around six months ago."

"All right. Let's go to his loft, pick him up."

"One step ahead of you," Ryan said. "We called his office and his home and found out he had a benefit tonight at the Metropolitan Club. It started at 7:30."

"Well, I guess we have plans for tonight then."

* * *

Beckett walked into the Metropolitan Club later that evening, Esposito and Ryan in tow, looking for their suspect. Nevertheless, Mr. Archibald wasn't the first person she noticed in there – thanks to her loyal and clueless detective buddies.

"Hey, isn't that Richard Castle?" Ryan pointed out.

And there he was in front of her, Rick Castle, talking to not one, but three, blonde bimbos, with their clueless smiles and fake boobs pointed at him.

Beckett could not believe her eyes. "Yes, it is," She said through gritted teeth.

When he looked up, as a reflex from all the laughing at whatever stupid thing one of the _girls_ had said, he met the stony – and hurt? – look in Kate's face through the crowd.

_Uh-oh, _he gathered. _This will not go well._

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: I'd like to take the time to thank everyone who has reviewed and followed and favorited (and simply read) this story so far, including those who just joined since my last update – in the latter case, I think that's all because NoOrdinaryLines started stalking me, though ;)**_

_**Of course, I'd also like to thank Tree23 for EVERYTHING. You're seriously amazing!**_

* * *

Ryan and Esposito noticed the bothered look on Beckett's face once she spotted the bad-boy writer in attendance at the benefit.

"You okay?" Espo asked.

"You seem tense," Ryan added.

The brunette looked at both her partners and tried to swiftly come up with an excuse for her behavior. "Yeah, I'm okay. It's just, he really got on my nerves the last time, when we worked that case back in September."

They both nodded, not having any reason to doubt Beckett's explanation.

Beckett watched as Castle purposefully made his way through the crowd towards the three detectives, taking long, frantic strides with a desperate look on his face. The brunette quickly had this inkling that the boys would soon have quite a reason to doubt her explanation unless she did something to stop whatever it was the mystery novelist was about to do.

Hoping to avoid any insight to her personal life – especially relating to her recent involvement with the novelist –, she immediately spoke up once Castle was within talking distance. "Good evening, Mr. Castle. How have you been?"

Her tone might have been polite enough, Rick noticed, but the narrowed eyes on her face were doing nothing to calm his nerves. At least, he got the message loud and clear: _You give away what's going on, you give your life up._

Trying to calm down a little bit, he greeted, "Detective Beckett, Detectives Ryan and Esposito. I didn't expect to see you here."

_You sure didn't_, he could read Kate's features telling him in perfect sarcasm.

The writer tried his best not to be intimidated, and so carried on. "What's going on?" He asked nonchalantly, although his eyes were begging Kate for some time alone with her.

Esposito was the one to first address the question. "We're investigating a murder."

"Looking for a suspect," Ryan piped in.

"In here?" Castle asked, slightly aghast and all too interested at once. "Who's the guy?"

Before Beckett had a chance to stop them, the three men in front of her were already deep in conversation about Mason Archibald and the murder victims. It was amazing how the three of them seemed to instantly hit it off, she noted. _Boys will be boys, indeed._

"You think he killed both the guy and Babs?" Castle was asking, referring to the murdered couple.

Something snapped in Beckett's mind. "Babs? You knew our victim, Barbara Watson?"

Castle suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Well, yeah, I bought some paintings from her art gallery for my house in the Hamptons."

"Dude, you've got a house in the Hamptons?" Ryan interrupted, excitedly.

"Of course he has a house in the Hamptons, bro," Esposito admonished in a lower voice.

Beckett just stared at Castle, trying to filter the other two detectives out of her mind. "And that's all?" She asked him, doubtful.

Esposito, on a roll, answered her question for the writer. "Young, pretty girl like that, rich, playboy guy like him… of course there's more to that." Turning with an impish grin to the author, he continued, "Am I right, man?"

Castle forged a smile at the male detective when he admitted, "Yeah, we slept together a couple of times about two months ago." Turning to Beckett, he added awkwardly, "I hadn't seen her since then, though."

Ryan cut in, "That's when Barbara started dating our other victim, Ian Cohen."

As Ryan, Esposito and a vexed Castle fell back into speculating about the different scenarios in which the murders could have been committed, Beckett just stood there, watching them.

Of course he had slept with their victim. This was Richard Castle, womanizing rich novelist. A player.

Had he been playing her too?

"Well, I hate to break up this party," The female detective finally managed to get in after a while, "but we need to find Mr. Archibald." She looked pointedly at the fellow detectives.

"Right," The two of them, chastised, replied almost in unison.

Rick suddenly recalled why he had come over to them in the first place. Not wanting to give Kate a chance to get away, he mentioned, "Actually, Detective, could I talk to you before you leave?"

Ryan and Esposito knew that Castle certainly wasn't talking to either of them, so they just glanced at Beckett – a little too knowingly, if you asked her – before adding that they'd go ahead and meet up with her later.

As soon as the boys left, Castle put on a dazzling smile and asked, "So, how have you been?"

Kate scoffed. "Oh, cut the crap, Castle. Better say whatever it is you want to say fast, because I have work to do and they," She nodded her head at the small group of women standing by the bar trying to watch them unobtrusively, "are waiting for you."

"Alright, that's not fair. I told you this would probably happen!"

"This?"

"Yeah, the… women! The… the…"

She interrupted the writer's stuttering spree, acidly commenting, "The ridiculousness of your drooling all over them?"

"Droo – what? No! I wasn't drooling! There was no drooling!"

"Really, Castle?" The brunette detective questioned, a single eyebrow raised in incredulity. "Yeah, right."

"They were just flirting, and I –"

"Flirting? They were _throwing_ themselves at you!" She hissed. Then, she added in a menacing whisper, "And you – you were completely into it!"

"I was not!" He replied in a tone that was louder and more high-pitched than he intended, which caused a few heads to turn their way. Noticing this – and the self-conscious look in the detective's face –, he uttered in a deep voice, "I was not into the flirting nor the women."

"Whatever, Castle, this shouldn't matter. Actually, it doesn't. You're entitled to all of this, right?" Beckett forced out on a roll, conflicted. "I think I should just go."

"No, Kate, wait –" The novelist said still in a low voice, reaching for the brunette's forearm before she had a chance to completely turn away from him. He kept his body close enough to hers to give people the idea that they were deep in conversation about something important, but not so close that it would give away that this was a personal discussion. He took a look at her chagrined features and decided to not let it stop him. "You are entitled to being annoyed here. I did ask you to come with me, and I wanted you here with me." He told her, before adding with a smile, "You would've helped keep them at bay."

Apparently, he didn't realize that wasn't a great thing to say.

Kate took a step closer to him and narrowed her eyes intimidatingly. "That's why you wanted me here? To keep the bimbettes away?!"

"What? No!" He replied, confused and stunned all over again. "I – look, Kate, I wanted you here because I wanted you here, that's it." He took the fact that he managed to stop to take a breath without her either interrupting him or leaving him as a good sign and carried on. "I don't care about those women, I'd much rather enjoy your company."

A bit more subdued, Kate replied in a low voice, still laced with wary, "That's a funny way of showing it, Castle."

"I have to live the part, Kate. At least until we know what this is."

"What _what_ is?"

"Us," He replied simply.

She stared at him, speechless for a moment. Was he playing her after all or not? "You barely know me, Castle."

Rick thought he could feel her starting to give in, and that gave him the confidence he needed. "It doesn't take a lot to realize that you're no ordinary woman, Kate. You're worth the effort," he finished, before taking a step closer to her.

Now with only a few inches keeping them apart, Beckett looked down to avoid the pull his eyes exercised over her. She ran her hands through her hair, aware of the warmth of his body standing so close to her, of the way it did things to her she couldn't explain.

Even if he was playing her, so what? It's not like she was getting ready to marry the guy.

And he was fun, Lanie had pointed out once. She needed fun.

All in due time, though.

"I can't do this now, Castle," She finally spoke, eyes still directed at the marble floor under her feet.

"I know," He said gently and not at all judging, causing her to look up at his face. "We'll talk tomorrow, " he added, before planting a gentle lingering kiss on the corner of her lips.

She smiled shyly at him, relaxing once she noticed that the look on his face denoted delight at putting her at ease more than it did any arrogance she might have expected.

She wasn't ready to let all that happened be forgiven and forgotten just yet; still, she decided to tease him a bit. "Well, if you're happy with just talking…"

With that, Kate walked away from Castle, leaving him staring after her like a loyal puppy lost in the park.

As she moved around the room in search of the boys, she realized that the bimbos by the bar were openly watching her, envy shining in their eyes as they whispered amongst themselves, probably about what they had just witnessed.

Kate smiled haughtily then.

_Take that, bitches._

* * *

Early Saturday afternoon had Beckett and the other detectives in the precinct, going over all of the evidence they had in connection with their cases again.

They were certain Mason Archibald was their killer. They just needed enough evidence to prove it.

After the detectives had picked up the suspect at the Metropolitan Club and brought him to the precinct the night before, Beckett had barely started questioning the man about his relationship with the victims before he lawyered up. And he didn't just lawyer up – he also smiled at her, that cynic smile that only a guilty man who knows he's about to go free is capable of showing.

It had pissed her off.

So, the female detective was once more looking over autopsy and lab reports, all the while rearranging the evidence on the white murder board in front of her. In the meantime, Ryan went over all information gathered with background checks on the victims, suspects and every person of interest in these cases, and Esposito reexamined the victims' financials.

Only the ding of the elevator as it reached the Homicide floor broke the detectives' concentration. And, as the three of them looked up to see who had arrived, they were greeted with the sight of Castle breezing into the bullpen.

Immediately standing up in nervousness, Kate murmured, "Castle, what are you doing here?"

"Relax, Detective," He replied in an easy tone. "I'm here to see Roy, actually."

The Captain, who had taken notice of the novelist walking into the room, came out of his office. "Rick! What brings you by?" He greeted, extending his hand.

Shaking Montgomery's hand, the writer replied, "Well, I was hoping I could speak with you about something."

* * *

"He what?!"

Montgomery answered Beckett's inquiry. "Well, he'd like the opportunity to observe the NYPD at work during this case, use this for a book. I told him it was up to you guys."

Beckett narrowed her eyes at Castle, who stood behind the Captain, an infuriating smirk painted on his face.

Ryan and Esposito, on the other hand, turned to watch Beckett's reaction to this news. They couldn't care less if Castle would follow them or not; the point here was how their fellow detective would react to having the playboy writer shadow her.

"This could turn out to be better than shark week," Esposito muttered to his partner.

Meanwhile, Beckett was trying to convince her boss that this was not a good idea. "Sir, he's like a nine-year old on a sugar rush, totally incapable of taking anything seriously."

"Oh, I take plenty of things seriously," Castle spoke up, leering.

The brunette looked pointedly at the Captain. "See?"

"Hey!" The writer exclaimed, indignant.

Montgomery intervened. "Beckett, he assured me he will follow your lead and keep out of the way –"

She muttered under her breath, "Yeah, right."

"And," the older man continued, as if uninterrupted, "he did help you solve the last case he was involved in."

That did it for the female detective. It was clear that the Captain wouldn't agree with her, so her best chance was to talk Castle out of this idea.

She knew it was a lost battle to begin with.

"Why would you need to shadow the NYPD now to write a book, Castle?" She tried anyway. "You've written tons of bestsellers before without doing so."

"To learn from the best," Was his immediate reply. "And thanks for acknowledging my success," He added as his smirk grew even wider.

She looked around nervously, hoping anyone would help her out here. Of course that wouldn't happen – the Captain liked this for publicity, and the boys liked this for messing with her. Her fellow detectives probably only saw this as an obnoxious novelist shadowing them, but Kate knew the writer's motives weren't just related to research for a book.

Suddenly, she found the perfect excuse to put an end to this. "I'm sorry, Castle, but, considering your involvement with the case, it's best if you don't."

"Involvement?" Montgomery asked, confused.

_This might just work_, she thought."Sir, he knows the suspect –"

"In passing!" The writer exclaimed in rebuttal. He was really afraid they would block him out.

"And he slept with our female victim," She got out through clenched teeth.

Well, that Castle could not refute.

The Captain looked from his detectives to Castle, seemingly disappointed, before saying, "Well, she's right, Rick. Maybe you could come for another case, though."

"I'll look forward to that," He replied to Montgomery's comment, although his eyes danced to Kate's face briefly while he spoke. Then he returned his full attention to his older colleague. "And to ripping you out of your paycheck again, Roy. Next game, my loft."

"Oh, you're on."

Rick turned to the detectives in the room, paying special attention to the boys instead of focusing on the beautiful brunette. "Maybe you guys could come too. We'll have a NYPD poker night."

"Sure," Ryan replied.

"That'd be cool," Espo shrugged, feigning indifference.

"Tuesday?" Castle offered to the occupants in the room.

"Deal," The Captain said as the two male detectives nodded.

"Great. I'll text you the address." Finally deciding to address Kate directly, he asked, "How about you, Detective?"

"I don't know, Castle," She said cryptically. "I think I might already have plans."

"Of course," He deflated a bit. "Well, let me know."

* * *

When her doorbell rang, Kate was just about to get into the tub for a long bath. Annoyed at the interruption – she really needed to unwind after spending the whole day in the precinct – she put on the short white terrycloth robe and marched into her living room to get the door.

"Yes?"

The man on the other side of the door widened his eyes upon the sight of a barely-clad Kate Beckett and stuttered, "I – sorry to bother you, Kate. I came to… is this a bad time?"

"It's fine, Damon," Even as she assured her next-door neighbor, she unconsciously hugged the robe a little closer to her body. "Do you need anything?"

Still a little uncomfortably absorbed, the man replied, "Actually, I just wanted to talk to you about our super, Mr. Williams. As you know, he's retiring after Thanksgiving, and the Tenants Committee thought it would be a nice idea if we could all contribute to a 'thank you for all the hard work and happy early holiday season' sort of thing."

"Of course. How much do I owe?"

The neighbors chatted for a couple of minutes after Beckett kicked in $150 for the cause and then – _finally_ – Kate was left alone to start her bath. She was barely out of the living room, though, when there was a knock on her door. _Again_.

Damien was really nice, but she was going to have to kill the guy.

"Yes?" The brunette greeted before even the door was fully opened, a little exasperation tainting her voice this time.

"I – uh – wow, is this how you greet visitors?" Castle said from the hallway, eyes shining in a mix of admiration and lust as he was granted a glimpse of almost-nude Kate.

Not expecting the author, it took her a little longer than it should to come up with a retort. "Well, I'm trying to take a bath but I keep getting interrupted."

"So, someone has been bothering you this fine evening?"

"Other than you, you mean?" She jabbed. "Yes, my neighbor just came by to talk about a retirement gift to the super."

"And all the time you were wearing this?" Rick commented, a little jealous, before understanding suddenly flashed in the writer's eyes. "Oh, so that explains the polite guy with the flushed cheeks that was locking his door when I walked by." He smirked at the detective. "You know, it's just mean to do that to a guy, Beckett," he added as he pointed to her body, outstretched hand going from her hair to her naked thighs.

Beckett swallowed the smirk that was threatening to adorn her face and raised her brows in fake annoyance. "Is there a point to your stopping by unannounced, Castle?" Before he even had a chance to reply – not that it seemed that he would have done so anytime soon, if the way his eyes were suddenly glued to her bare legs was any indication –, she added, "Actually, how did you even get in the building?"

"Lock's broken," He told her without taking his focus from her body.

"Castle!"

The displeased tone in her voice caught his attention and his eyes snapped up. "Yeah?" At her pointed look, his brain resumed functioning. "Right. So, after recent events, I wanted to spend some time with you before you had the chance to fend me off, and I thought this," He picked up a grocery bag and a bottle of wine that were sitting by her door, "would be a nice idea."

For the second time that evening, she raised her brows at him. "What's this?"

"This is homemade dinner and a bottle of red Châteauneuf du Pape – actually, ingredients to prepare homemade dinner, but you get the point." He rambled. "I remember promising you a low-key second date," He finished as an explanation.

The corners of her mouth went up in a hardly noticeable smile. "I believe the actual word was 'inconspicuous'."

"Great memory, Detective," He noted, trying to sound coy. He would be lying if he said he wasn't also thrilled by the way she seemingly committed their conversation to memory. "So," He continued after she made no move to let him in her apartment, "Can I come in?"

Kate pretended to think it over before taking a step away from the door. "Please," She told him in invitation.

She watched entranced as the novelist smiled at her and made his way to her kitchen, where he settled the food and the wine. "So, are we going to work on dinner together?" She asked.

The thought of the two of them cooking together in the average sized kitchen was appealingly intimate, as well as strangely arousing, for Rick. Taking notice of her appearance once again – _how could I have even forgotten she was only wearing a robe?_ –, he came up with a better idea. "Actually, why don't you go take your bath while I take care of everything here?"

"Are you sure?"

"Well, unless you plan on allowing me to see what else you've got on under that robe, then, yes, I'm sure."

The brunette blushed for a few moments before recovering, "Well, I'll just take a shower and when I come back I'll help you finish dinner."

"Deal," He smiled at her.

"Pans are under the sink and the cooking knifes and spatulas and stuff are on the top two drawers there," She pointed at the counter beside the stove. "If you need anything else, just take a look at the cabinets." She directed before leaving the room.

Once the writer heard the click of the bathroom door closing behind Kate, he started his quest for cooking utensils, a proud smirk on his lips. If there was anything Rick had learned in his life, it was to take his victories as small as they came. Any victory was a victory nonetheless, and this – Beckett allowing him into her home for an unscheduled dinner date? This was enough victory for now.

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Honestly, I got to thank Tree23 for reading and rereading a great part of this chapter until we felt it was good enough to show to other people (lol). While I'm at it, I'd like to give a shout out to fanfictioncaskett4 as well, who chats with me every single day and constantly pushes me to write and still reviews pretty much every chapter. You both are great ;)**_

_**Readers out there: please review if you have time – it really helps with the whole writing process. Hope you enjoy this chapter (the longest one yet!). As you can see, I got a little carried away writing this one…**_

* * *

It had taken Kate a little over half an hour to get ready for her homemade dinner with Castle.

After taking a quick shower just to freshen up, she had debated on what to wear for the evening, because lounging in her PJ's had been _out of the question_, but so had been dressing up to stay home – especially since Rick himself had arrived in plain jeans and a maroon sweater (coupled with a leather jacket that he would probably have neglected to her couch by then). Painfully aware of the fact that Castle had been cooking for _them_ the whole time she had stood unmoving in the bedroom in her pensive mode, the brunette had decided on navy suede leggings with a black and white striped tunic top and black ballet flats – in hopes that it would pass for casual but not underdressed – and then walked out of her bedroom to help the writer in the kitchen.

When she reached the living room, though, Kate was greeted with the sight of her dining table all set, tableware and cutlery already in their proper place, and a pristine kitchen area. Castle was bent down checking the food in oven.

She was amazed. "You've done everything already?"

He turned to look at her, surprised to find her there, and nodded with a smile. "Not as hard as it seems." The writer turned off the oven and walked over to the table to open the wine bottle. "You look nice," He told her with an appreciative grin as he poured each of them a glass.

"Thank you," She said, accepting her wineglass and taking a sip. At least the time it had taken her to get ready had not been in vain, she mused. Pointing to the oven then, the detective inquired about their food, "Is it ready?"

"A few minutes to go. But we can have bruschetta while we're waiting," Rick announced as showed his date a plate with the antipasto on the table. He then took a bite of one of the grilled breads topped with tomato and basil.

"You prepared bruschetta?" She asked, impressed, voicing the word in Italian accent.

Still swallowing his food, he repeated in question, intrigued, "Brüs-ke-ta?"

Realizing that she'd inadvertently used the proper pronunciation, a rosy color tainted her cheeks – she hoped he wouldn't think she was a snob. Shrugging shyly, she explained, "It's just how the word is actually pronounced in Italian, and it kinda stuck in my head that way."

"Yes, I know that's the Italian pronunciation," He told her with a smirk.

_Of course he does_, she mentally slapped herself. Being a world-famous bestselling novelist, he'd probably eaten those stupid _bruschette_ in a stupid Italian fancy restaurant in stupid Italy. Probably while in the company of a stupid Italian model.

"I was just wondering how you knew that's the Italian pronunciation," Kate heard him mention.

"Oh." She debated a second on what to tell him. "I just read a lot," She told him nonchalantly as she picked up a bruschetta topped with prosciutto for herself.

The writer didn't buy that for a second. "What, you read the NATO phonetic alphabet in your spare time?"

Beckett laughed. "Fine, I speak a little Italian," She relented. "I studied it my first year in Stanford."

"You went to Stanford?" The information wowed him.

"Just my freshman year. I ended up transferring to NYU during my sophomore year," She conceded the information, knowing she didn't sound as carefree then as she did a second before.

"NYU?" He asked, confused.

By the look on Castle's face, he was about to ask Kate why she'd traded easygoing California to come back to concrete jungle New York still in her college years, but she wasn't ready – nor wanted – to discuss that with him.

So, opting to give him something else to focus on before he had a chance to open the can of worms, she told him casually, "Yeah. Anyway, learning Italian came in real handy when I dated this guy from Rome during my semester abroad."

The novelist's brain started going a hundred miles an hour with these tidbits she was throwing his way. He didn't know if he'd want to hear stories about Kate dating an Italian man, though, so he concentrated on the 'semester abroad' part of her speech. "You studied in Italy?!"

"No," The detective replied as she picked up a second bruschetta, acting blasé. "Kiev, Ukraine."

Rick was floored, but still tried his best to remain cool. "You speak Ukrainian?"

"I do," She took a bite of her entrée. "But, actually, Russian is more widely used in Kiev than Ukrainian."

"You speak Russian too?!" He squeaked in complete astonishment. Coolness be damned.

"Yes," She smirked a little before recounting, "My maternal grandparents fled from Kiev in the aftermath of World War II. They were so young back then, Castle. Their parents had been killed and the city was a wreck... they needed a new place to build their lives. So, at first they moved to Montreal, but then a few years later they came to New York. They taught me the little Russian they still knew when I was growing up, but when I got older I thought it would be cool to learn more about my family heritage. So I spent six months in Kiev."

Rick was hanging on Beckett's every word, committing everything she was saying to memory, as if each piece of information were a piece of a puzzle he'd get the chance to put together later on. _Way_ later on, it seemed, because, for the moment, the more he learned about her, the less sense she made to him.

"That really does sound cool," Beckett heard the novelist say, completely in awe of her.

She couldn't help but find adorable how his mouth took a little longer than it normally would to close once the words had left his lips. That's how entranced he was with her, and it made her feel proud and honored. However, even as Kate smiled at Castle's immersion in her words, the joy didn't quite reach her eyes. The detective knew that, although the story she had just relayed to him pretty much summarized her reasons for going away in 1999, she had deliberately omitted the fact that the trip to Ukraine had taken place a couple of months after her mother's murder.

It honestly seemed that, no matter the circumstance, the ache she felt due to her mother's death would always find a way to resurface.

The buzzing from the oven timer startled Beckett out of her funky mood.

In a heartbeat, Castle was already moving around the kitchen, picking up the ovenproof dish and carrying it to the table.

"Dinner smells amazing," The brunette found herself saying.

Awareness set it, and then Kate's heart quickened. She couldn't tell if it was the tone she had used or the words themselves, or if it was the fact that she was standing in her apartment with a man and had a home-cooked meal set on the dining table, but that short sentence, so unassuming – _dinner smells amazing _–, evoked a sense of intimacy and commitment she was not expecting.

It left her feeling flushed.

Then, as uneasiness started to set in instead, the detective became aware of Castle's curious eyes watching her fondly. "What?" She asked, now self-conscious.

In a failed attempt to cover up the fact that he was pretty much making goo-goo eyes at her, Rick told her, "Nothing. I hope you like fettuccine carbonara."

Beckett was sure that it wasn't 'nothing', but there was no way she was ready to call him on it. She definitely needed to clear the air, which was feeling heavy instead of comforting with all the tenderness and affection in the room.

"I do." She replied to his comment on the menu, accepting the form of deflection. "So, shall we eat?"

"Good idea," He told her, holding out a chair for her.

* * *

As dinner went by, Kate and Rick enjoyed their delicious meal – the novelist was also a great cook, apparently – and talked to each other about almost anything that popped to mind, from sports and travels to their careers and even their teenage years and past relationships. In spite of their acceptance of having personal conversations, they never breached anything _too_ personal, as Beckett refrained from telling him about her mother's murder and Castle avoided anything that could lead to the topic of his unknown father or the reasons for his failed marriages.

In any case, they were having a great time together.

They finished their main course in companionable silence, just enjoying each other's company for a while. Rick was now even more in awe of her than he thought he could be; she was a complex woman, so serious and relaxed at that same time, and this somehow just didn't add up for him. She was definitely keeping something close to her chest – something about the person she had lost – and he was determined to wait her out until she was ready to tell him about it. Kate Beckett certainly seemed worth the wait to him.

Kate, for her part, was also trying to understand how she could be acting so controversially. She knew from her days in therapy that her mother's murder had made her build a fortress around herself in order to protect her from the outside world. It had taken her a year of therapy just to accept that she would have to let her mother's case go unsolved if she wanted a chance at living her own life. It had taken another year to work on being ready to let someone into her heart again, and that objective clearly hadn't been accomplished – she just had to look at what happened with Will.

She knew she wasn't ready. She knew she still had a lot of armor. She knew she still kept a foot out of the door when it came to relationships.

Yet there was something about Rick Castle.

Beckett knew she was attracted to him – hard not to, considering Rick was a sexy, 6"1, broad-shouldered man with big, strong hands and soft blue eyes. But attraction wasn't even half of it.

So, what was it about Castle that made her heart beat a little faster? How was it that he managed to make her feel a little bit more like her younger self?

The writer was playful. He was thrilling, and kind of wild, and surprising. He was fun.

Kate missed fun. She missed being fun.

She really did need someone fun in her life.

And, okay, so maybe she wasn't ready to be "all in" in a relationship. But Kate didn't think Castle was ready either – he said he wanted something real, but he still was a playboy, right? That's not something he could change overnight.

So, she was still safe inside her walls. Rick wouldn't push her. They could have fun together, and, whenever she felt like it, she could take a peek outside her fortress.

_Baby steps_, she thought.

"What are you thinking about?" She heard Castle ask, lightness in his voice.

His question caught the brunette off guard. "What?"

_Oh, right_, his mind clicked, remembering that Kate Beckett apparently didn't do well with forthrightness. Rick had to work on his subtlety. And use his humor.

_Baby steps_, he thought.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, but –" He was stopped by the look at her face.

"Really, Castle?" She told him, disbelieving. "You didn't mean to pry? 'Cause, since I've met you, that's pretty much all you've tried to do."

"Fine, I meant to pry," he relented in mock insolence. "But only because you've been gone up there in your head for, like, five minutes."

She had, hadn't she?

"I'm sorry," She told him guiltily. "I guess I got a little caught up in my thoughts."

"Anything I can help you with?" He offered, honestly.

Kate wasn't sure if she was expecting an immature joke or even some sexual innuendo, but she certainly wasn't anticipating Castle's thoughtful reply.

Trying to get a hold of herself, she lied, "Nah… it´s just work stuff."

His eyes gleamed. "So it _is_ something I can help you with."

That actually got a chuckle out of her. "How can you be so excited about my work?"

"You're an NYPD homicide detective. What's not to like about that?"

"Death," She told him immediately, with a touch of sarcasm. "Loss. Injustice, tragedy…"

The writer considered cracking a joke or pointing out all the cool aspects of the job in his opinion, but her last words had held such respect for the victims, her eyes showing just enough personal pain, to make him think better of it. Still, he needed to keep up his side of the banter. "Yes, that's true," He started, in a conciliatory tone, "_but_, you also get to do car chases, and shoot-outs, and arrest bad guys…"

She appreciated his effort to lighten things up. "You're making me come off as the female John McClaine, Castle."

"Ooh, a _Die Hard_ reference! A woman after my own heart," he told her, beaming. "But no, you're not the female John McClaine."

"You sure? I can do a mean 'yippee ki-yay' when I want to."

Rick smiled, awestruck at the woman in front of him for a moment. _Focus_, his brain told him.

"You're more of a John McClaine meets Sherlock Holmes," The novelist clarified. "I can't say about the 'yippee ki-yay', but I know you do have mean detecting skills, Detective."

Despite her best efforts, Kate smiled bashfully at the open compliment. Trying to throw him off his game, she joked, "Wow, Castle, I didn't know that you could give a girl a compliment without turning it into something sexual."

"I'm glad you noticed," He told her in mock relief. Then, knowing that she was probably expecting it and not wanting to disappoint, he leaned forward and added in a deep voice, "Makes you want me more, doesn't it?"

"And there it goes," She rolled her eyes at him half-heartedly.

* * *

After dessert – some peanut butter & chocolate chip cookies that Castle had bought in a delicatessen on his way over –, Castle and Beckett had retired to her couch, bringing their wineglasses with them.

Kate still had a contemplative look in her face from time to time, so Rick just assumed she was worried about her work.

"Why don't you tell me what's bothering you about it?"

"Huh?" Kate really was distracted; being this close to a charming Castle was not doing her any good.

"The murder case – or else, _cases_," He clarified.

_Oh, her cover_. _Right_.

"Castle, you can't interfere. I told you that at the precinct," She told him, tiredly, before remembering something and changing her tone. "Which reminds me, by the way, what the heck did you expect to accomplish when you decided to ask my boss to follow me around, huh?"

He looked sheepish. "Uh, to follow you around."

"Why?"

"I thought it could be fun. Plus, I could use it for a book."

"Having trouble coming up with plots for Derrick Storm, Castle?" She teased him.

"No," He told her in a mocking tone. "Not anymore."

She was curious. "What do you mean, not anymore?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but cut himself short. He still had to tell Beckett that he planned to write a character based on her, didn't he?

Well, first things first.

"It's not important. You know what's important? Your murder cases."

Kate sighed. "Castle, forget about this. You probably have to leave soon, so let's just enjoy the rest of our wine and I'll worry about the case later."

"Come on, I can do this. It sounds like you could use some help."

"What I could use was some evidence. There's no way we can link Mason Archibald definitively to the murders with what we've got. We're missing something." She sighed again. "Oh, why am I telling you this? I'm not even supposed to discuss ongoing cases with people outside the precinct."

Rick watched Kate bite her lower lip in frustration. For some reason, that action set his brain in motion.

The writer rested his glass on the coffee table and then turned his body towards the brunette. "So, Archibald is a rich, powerful guy. He's in his forties, still single – a ladies' man, right? Well, not exactly. He used to be a party boy in his earlier years, but since he's become the CEO of his own company, he's turned quiet, reserved. He's rarely seen with women in public appearances – when he's seen in public at all. If it weren't for his wealth, people wouldn't even notice him. They barely do as it is."

Kate listened as Rick reported what he knew about Archibald, feeling confused. Why did that matter?

Castle didn't even take notice of the woman's reservations; he continued narrating, his tone shifting from explanatory to storytelling, somehow growing more intimate. "But Mason notices Barbara. One nice April afternoon, he comes to her art gallery to buy some new paintings for his penthouse loft. She's young, beautiful… fun. She's fresh out of her divorce, and she's feeling daring – starts flirting with him. He thinks, _why not?_ So, he takes her out to dinner, brings her home for drinks… maybe more." The novelist's eyes turned a bit darker and his voice dropped an octave. "They meet up a couple of other times that week. A week turns into a month and, by the second month, Mason starts getting a bit possessive. He starts controlling Barbara, calling her all the time, showing up at her gallery for no reason... that doesn't sit well with Babs; she's just looking for some entertainment after her divorce. So, she breaks it off with him by the end of May."

Kate realized what the author was doing – he was painting her a picture of what could have happened in the murder cases. Suddenly absorbed, she watched as Rick stopped speaking for a moment to take a sip of his wine, the two of them never breaking eye contact, though. It was clear that the writer wasn't finished talking, and the brunette could already feel herself getting even more drawn into his story.

She would bet he could felt it too.

Not ten seconds had passed before the novelist resumed his tale, "Now, despite his not so charming personality, Mason Archibald is a prominent, influential man, one who doesn't do well with rejection and failure." Castle's speech sounded secretive then. "That's why he doesn't completely let go of Barbara – he still keeps tabs on her. Quietly," Rick whispered the word out, his raised eyebrows making a point to a fascinated Beckett, and waited a beat before adding, "Discreetly."

Without even realizing it, Kate found herself moving closer to Castle, his words pulling her in both figuratively and physically. The detective did manage to notice – faintly – that, despite the fact that he was the one doing the storytelling, Castle was intuitively leaning closer to her as well.

"At first," The novelist went on narrating, "he just wants to know what she's up to, figure out whom she's seeing. Two months go by, then three, and all Mason finds out is that Barbara's been having flings and one night stands. In September he's ready to let it all go, convinced she's not a woman worthy of his affections, but then Mason realizes Babs has become smitten with some guy," Castle said, his tone growing a bit colder, "Ian Cohen, he learns the name." Taking notice of Kate's captivated look, Rick continued. "Mason also learns that Ian is just like himself – powerful, rich, an entrepreneur. Only the other man just turned 30 and is way more charming than him – a social butterfly, people would say. Suddenly, Archibald no longer cares about Barbara's flaws; all he thinks of is how much he liked her when they were together and how she belongs with him, not Ian Cohen. If Babs is going to become serious with someone, it should be with him, Mason Archibald."

Beckett was so far into the plot by that point that she could almost envision the scenes playing out before her eyes – as it was, the female detective could already _feel_ the words leaving the Castle's mouth. Her senses tingled as she took in the changes in Rick's posture; waiting expectantly for the bestselling author to reveal what was going to happen next.

It was an exciting feeling, she mentally acknowledged. _Anticipation_.

Kate was not disappointed when the novelist carried on. "So Mason decides to pay a visit to his competition. He goes out of his way to avoid the chance of being recognized – he mingles with a group of neighbors to get into Cohen's building, uses the stairs to avoid the elevator's cameras and then just knocks on Ian's door. He waits until the other man lets him into the apartment, and the two of them argue over Barbara. Mason can't take it – maybe the younger man tells him he can't have Barbara, maybe Ian tells the older man that Babs was never really into him, who cares? The point is, Mason is used to getting his way and no one," Rick raised his voice at the last two words, before reestablishing a more controlled tone, "should interfere with that – certainly not Ian. There's no way Archibald would let someone else take over what was meant to be his in the first place." The writer's eyes became strangely unfocused then. "That's what's going on in the millionaire's mind as he struggles with Cohen – _you cannot take her away from me_," Rick recounted, his voice turning to almost whispers. "That's the only thing that leaves Mason's mouth as Ian's throat collapses under the pressure of his hands – 'You can't have her; she's mine'."

Once the room became so quiet that only the sounds of their breathing were noticeable, Rick's gaze returned to Kate's mesmerized features.

The brunette couldn't help but feel dumbfounded by Castle's ability to spin a story. Of course she already knew he was great at it – she was a fan of his books, after all –, but to watch his mind at work right before her eyes was something indescribable. And, for the detective, it wasn't just about him being capable of storytelling; she was also impressed that he was so _passionate _about it.

While they silently regarded each other for what was probably a whole five seconds – although, in her mind, it lasted several minutes – Kate rapidly understood that Rick Castle was, in many ways, probably as devoted to his career as she was to hers, if not more. His motivation most likely didn't come from a personal tragedy as it did in her case, but his fervor for solving things was right there with hers. The writer clearly enjoyed his occupation, Kate could tell from the way his eyes lit up when he was developing a particular theory and all of a sudden everything made sense and fit perfectly in his story; Kate felt the same way when she was conducting an investigation and the detectives managed to piece together all the evidence to put the killer behind bars. Granted, Rick's profession didn't bring people to justice per se, but Kate knew firsthand that, sometimes, it could help bring a sense of closure to the loved ones left behind.

When she thought of him like that, Kate momentarily forgot that Castle could sometimes be a childish man incapable of taking things seriously. Right now, all she could see was an perceptive, caring man. Someone who devoted his time to creating stories that would provide entertainment for the general public and also some sort of comfort for those who were emotionally wounded by the injustice of violent tragedies.

People like her.

Kate was brought out of her reverie by Rick's voice as he continued his narrative in the same hypnotizing tone he'd been using before. "A few days later, when he thinks Ian's death isn't so painful anymore for her, Mason finally gets the courage to go talk to Barbara. He's learned enough about her schedule from his stalking days to know that she'll be alone in her gallery that evening. So he visits her there, going in through the back door to avoid the cameras in the showroom, but she doesn't even give him a chance to discuss them, just flat out tells him off. Once again, he feels his hand being forced; he doesn't even realize what he's doing, until he hears the thud of her lifeless body hitting the ground."

The female detective was so enthralled by Rick's talent and passion for storytelling that she had to swallow her gasps of surprise at the way the plot he'd created was unraveling.

But of course the novelist wasn't done yet. "That's when he notices the object in his hand, a bronze statue of a young ballerina tying the ribbons on her ballet shoes, and realizes what he's done. He doesn't miss the irony of it all – using a small sculpture of an innocent girl to take a young woman's life – but there's nothing he can do about it now. His hands are shaking, the heavy feel of the object he's holding too much to bear. He needs to go." A flash of discomfort crossed Rick's features as he said, "Mason feels remorseful at first, when he remembers how all he wanted was to tell her how much she meant to him and how they should be together; but then his mind is playing tricks on him and suddenly he's conjuring up these images of Barbara laughing at him, calling him pathetic." Different emotions flashed in the writer's eyes then. "He spits on her face – 'Can't laugh at me anymore' – and then leaves the gallery, going out through the same back door he used to come in and escaping into the night, undetected."

Beckett didn't even have time to comment on the story's ending, as Rick had swiftly snapped out of storyteller mode and let the comforting boyish gleam return to his eyes. "See? Tell me the jurors won't believe you if you tell it like that."

Kate tried her best, but failed, to hide her smirk from Castle. She had to admit it to herself: _he's annoyingly cute_. "Except we don't have evidence of any of that, Castle," She contested, anyway. "Just Archibald's saliva on Barbara's face."

"So?"

"So?" She parroted sarcastically. "So, this is wild speculation. We can't just arrest him based on a story you made up. We need probable cause – evidence corroborating that tale of yours."

"Well, I already told you what happened and how and where it all went down; you just have to find the evidence to prove it, then," He told her with a smirk. "More wine?" He offered, already picking up her goblet off the coffee table and making his way to the kitchen counter to refill their wineglasses.

"Geez, thanks for all the help," He heard her say jokingly, referring to the murder investigation.

He just chuckled.

When Rick returned to the sofa and settled back next to Beckett, his demeanor seemed focused. He passed her one of the wineglasses as he took a sip of the liquid in his own, and then he told her, "So, let's work with what you've found so far and see what we can come up with. I'll help you piece it together."

The spark in Castle's eyes told the brunette that not only was he serious about his offer but also _excited_ about it. Suddenly, the detective caught herself thinking back to that week in September whey they worked together solving the Castle Murders, as she had dubbed them; something he had said about how all it took to solve a crime was to find the story. That's how Castle was going to help her now – by coming up with the story behind the murders. Actually, it was more than that – Rick would get her to think the same way he did when he was writing his books.

Kate was undeniably flattered to be granted an insight into the bestselling novelist's mind.

"Okay," She conceded, proceeding to relate everything the NYPD had managed to pull together so far.

* * *

Castle and Beckett had spent over an hour sitting on her sofa and going over the case files, thoroughly discussing every piece of evidence the detectives had uncovered in their investigation, until they had finally found the break the brunette needed to effectively link Mason Archibald to the murders.

All this time, their minds had been solely focused on the cases, the wineglasses long forgotten to the coffee table.

Their bodies, however, had been focused on themselves.

So, by the time the two of them came out of their unexpected theory building stupor, Rick's right hand was sensually grabbing at the left side of Kate's waist, his left one running up her right thigh, as both hands were pulling her into him. Not that she was being taken advantage of, considering that she herself had at some point placed her right tight over his left knee and had both of her hands on his strong, well-built biceps.

Despite the fact that it was early November and that the temperature in her apartment was nowhere near warm, Rick could feel the heat in the room, heat that was coming off both of their bodies. Sitting so close together to each other, their faces pretty much nose to nose, the writer couldn't help but notice the way the room's lamplights were reflecting in her green eyes, darkened with arousal to an almost brownish tone. He was certain his dilated pupils left her no doubt he was feeling the same way.

Nowhere near as confident as he usually was in these situations, the bestselling author spoke in a throaty rumble, "I guess smart really _is_ sexy."

Unconsciously, Kate moved an inch closer to his body, his right knee pressing up against her left inner thigh as a result. "It works for us," She agreed as she ran her fingers over the muscles in his upper arms. "You're surprisingly burly for a writer," she noted absentmindedly.

Her touch was driving him insane. "I'm naturally…" he gulped, distracted, before finishing, "large."

It was such a stupid thing to say, so suggestive and bordering on crude that she would have hit the guy who said this if he weren't Castle.

Only it _was_ Castle, and for once he didn't mean to imply anything sexual. It scared the detective for a second that in so little time he had been able to get her to make exceptions for his behavior, better yet, to _accept_ him as he was. This was Castle being Castle, tripping all over his words because she held that kind of power over him. And she liked him this way.

Beckett ended up moaning a husky "I guess" in reply to his claim of being large, and the guttural noise resonated unmistakably to the novelist's ears.

It drove him over the edge.

Castle pulled Kate's face to his, closing the distance between them in a long, deep, open-mouthed kiss that had them both feeling desperate with arousal and incapable of letting go. Without breaking the kiss, the brunette folded her slender arms around Rick's neck, lightly biting on his lower lip and drawing it into her own mouth; in return, the writer wrapped his own arms around her waist and tugged her onto his lap, causing her to pant into his mouth.

Beckett adjusted herself on Castle's lap, efficiently winding her legs around his waist without unlocking their lips. His left hand traveled up to the back of her head, practically merging her mouth to his, and he groaned into her when she instinctively undulated her hips over his.

Their kisses grew even more urgent and needy than the couple thought possible, Rick's tongue finding the sweet taste of her own as Kate's hand explored his body. She ran her hands over his abdomen, holding on to his sweater while she lowered her back onto the couch, successfully pulling the garment off the waist of his pants and dragging his body over hers at the same time.

In their new position, Castle finally found the strength to break their kisses, but only so Kate could swiftly take off his sweater and throw it somewhere on the living room floor. Her tunic top soon followed, and it took the writer a moment to fully absorb the image of a shirtless Kate Beckett, clad in a cherry red lacy bra, lying under him. Now naked from his waist up, Rick ran his lips eagerly over the column of her neck and then the skin above her breasts, already slick with their perspiration.

This time, Kate's moan was loud and clear. "Oh, God."

The sound coming from the brunette's lips caused him to push back to watch her, his hips inadvertently pushing into her anyway.

She looked into Rick's eyes as he tenderly pushed a strand of her hair behind her right ear and muttered, "You are so beautiful."

The honesty and affection he infused into his compliment left Kate feeling flattered and tense at the same time.

The brunette tried to sort out her conflicted feelings as the novelist, oblivious to her internal struggle, gently gathered her hair in his hand and started running his lips and tongue over the nape of her neck. When Kate felt him sinking his teeth into her neck and slightly pulling at her hair at the same time, she knew what to do.

"We shouldn't be here."

It took him a moment to fully grasp that she had said something, but, as soon as the words sank in, Rick withdrew from Kate's body. He closed his eyes as he tried to catch his breath and calm the beating of his heart. When he finally opened his eyelids to look at the woman still lying on the couch, he asked her, "You want me to go?"

Kate watched the writer for about two seconds – two _excruciating_ seconds, if you asked him – before she finally opened her mouth to speak.

"No," She said, moving to a sitting position. She then stood up and offered her hand to him, a lascivious gleam in her features. "I meant we should move this to the bedroom."

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: I'm sorry it took me a while longer than it should to update. It turns out every time I tried to write a Caskett scene, I ended up having Castle proposing to Kate… imagine why!**_

_**Oh, I was cajoled by Tree23 and Polly Lynn to turn this into M. So, even though I'm not as descriptive as they would probably desire, it still has some mature language in it. Anyway, hope you like it. Please review.**_

* * *

The early morning sun was shining lazily through the translucent drapes in the bedroom, which woke Beckett up before her alarm even had the chance to do its proper job.

Damn, it was morning already.

Looking through the curtain of her dark brown hair, Kate spied the numbers in the digital clock sitting on her nightstand and calculated how much sleep she managed – a little under three hours.

It'd been barely three hours since their night of incredible, mind-blowing sex came to an end. Three hours since all the excitement and the exercise had finally tired them out. Three hours since they succumbed to slumber in each other's arms.

Them. Kate and Rick. Beckett and Castle. Detective Katherine Beckett and mystery writer Richard Castle.

How had that happened?

Behind her, Castle's relaxed, rhythmic breathing caught the brunette's attention. She also became aware of the feel of his right arm over her waist and his broad chest against her back, all proof that he had settled himself behind her, melding his body to hers as though they had been fused together. Any other day – any other man – and she might have moved away. With Rick, for some reason it brought a smile to her lips and she snuggled in closer.

Kate rolled over – mindful not to dislodge his hold from her body – and stared at her companion's sleeping face. The boyish, peaceful look on Rick's features, the way his hair flopped shaggily over his brow, got her thinking once again about the events of last night… actually, just a few hours ago.

Castle had managed to lure Beckett back to a time when she wasn't so wounded, when she could enjoy herself without feeling guilty about it. He had made her feel appreciated, but he hadn't been too intense about it. Not that their late night activities hadn't been intense; it's just that there had been a lightheartedness to it. He had been tender, yes, and he had also been really passionate and wild when the time had been right for it. But what really surprised the detective was that, throughout it all, Rick had been playful.

He hadn't tried to impress her. And he definitely hadn't made Kate feel like she had to try her best to impress him. They had spent their entire time together just enjoying each other, having fun.

_Well, sexy fun_, her mind pointed out.

Kate smiled to herself, still lost in her thoughts and watching the man lying next to her sleep. The man who had given her such a great time not so long before. The man who, without even trying, had gotten her to relax and be carefree.

For a few hours, Kate had truly and finally let go of everything that had been weighing her down for so long.

And now it was morning already.

"I'm pretty sure you once told me that staring is creepy," Rick spoke in a hoarse voice, still with his eyes closed.

Kate's smile widened and she let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, well, it's creepy when you're the one doing it. I'm just –"

"Admiring the ruggedly handsome man in your bed?" He cut in, with his eyes now open and letting a smirk show on his lips.

She snorted. "Ruggedly handsome, Rick?"

"I'm pretty sure of what I bring to the party, Detective."

"Well, as long as you're sure of yourself, Castle…" Kate languidly grinned at Castle's words.

The writer couldn't help but lean in to graze her lips with his. "Good morning," He greeted her once their mouths parted. "What time is it?"

"Around seven," She told him without turning to check the time. "Definitely not 7:15, 'cause my alarm didn't go off yet."

"Why would you set your alarm for 7:15 on a Sunday?" The novelist was appalled.

"I'm an early riser," She replied with a shrug, getting herself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and stretching, her bare back facing the novelist.

"Do you have to get up now?"

Kate thought she detected a hint of affection in his tone, but she couldn't be sure without watching his face. Turning her head around to take a peek at him, she explained, "I think I'm going to make some coffee." Letting an easy smile appear on her lips before finally moving to get out of bed, she asked, "Would you like something to eat?"

The moment she got to her feet, she groaned. The kinks in her muscles told her that she was going to pay later today for not getting a proper night of rest.

Castle was so absorbed watching the naked woman moving around the room before his eyes that he hadn't answered her question about coffee and food. When he heard her voice again – a tentative "Rick…?" as she pulled a robe off her hanging rack and put it on – it finally occurred to him that she was expecting him to have breakfast with her.

Oh. Damn.

"I, uh…" Rick faltered, pushing himself to a sitting position. "Actually…"

Kate turned to look at the stuttering man on her bed and suddenly she understood.

He wasn't staying.

Of course he wasn't staying.

"You have to leave," She stated, trying her best to not let her voice show how cheapened she felt. She wasn't actually looking for commitment, but to learn that their night together was only a one-time thing did hurt. "Don't worry, I get it."

The _hell_ she did.

Rick had noticed the way all the lightness had left Kate's eyes and realized what she was probably thinking at this point. Acting fast – she was already turning to leave the bedroom – he scrambled to the edge of the bed to take her hand and pulled her closer, in a move that had her standing between his thighs, which were awkwardly covered by a tangle of sheets.

"I'm not leaving," He told her before she could question what he was doing. "Well, I have to leave, but I'm not _leaving_ leaving," He tried to explain. "I mean, I'm not leaving for good," He amended.

The messy explanation was giving Beckett a headache. "Castle, what are you talking about?"

"Sundays, I have breakfast out with Alexis." He clarified. "It's kind of our thing, and given that I didn't know I'd be staying over, she's probably expecting us to go out today."

Even though it was the truth, Rick was ready to kick himself for this explanation. _What is the matter with you?_ He asked himself silently.

Trying to make up for it, he started musing, "Of course, I could call now and cancel…"

Kate, ashamed, tried to interrupt. "Rick…"

Castle wasn't paying attention and carried on, "She's probably going to wake up soon, even though we usually only go out to eat after nine and…"

"Rick." Kate said a bit more firmly, an octave higher, and managed to break through to him.

His eyes focused on hers, his mouth open but no sound coming out at first. "Yeah?" He managed to ask after a beat.

"You don't have to cancel with your daughter, it's fine," She told him, lowering her eyes quickly to his covered thighs in an attempt to break eye contact.

She had been thinking he was a jerk using her for sex and the guy was actually telling her he had to leave to be with his teenage kid.

_Jeez!_

The novelist in him, always observant, picked up on her embarrassment. "You thought I wanted this to be a one-night stand, didn't you?" He questioned, looping his ankles behind her calves and resting his hands on her hips.

Her eyes quickly darted up to look at him, surprise crossing her features, but she didn't say a word.

That was all the answer he needed, though. "Kate," He started, standing up and bringing the sheets with him, covering his body modestly as best as he could while he put his arms around her waist. "I'm not the kind of guy to lie to get what he wants. If I wanted a one-night stand, I would've told you that. And even then, I wouldn't just leave you the morning after."

Beckett tried for levity to hide her shame. "You trying to make yourself look like the only respectful man on the planet, Mr. Castle?"

"I'm trying to make you realize that I am not a complete jackass," He told her seriously. "Look, I may have had my share of meaningless flings," He paused for a nanosecond to watch how she reacted to this statement – she seemed more annoyed at the prospect of him gloating than at his playboy manners, so he was good to continue, "but I never strung them on. We always had a great time, and I made sure that they didn't feel used or anything, but I was also clear that we were only living the moment, that it wouldn't go anywhere." He gripped her waist to make sure she would pay attention to what he was going to say. "Now, did I tell you that I wanted something meaningless with you or did I say that you were worth more than that?"

Kate felt uncomfortable under the proverbial spotlight. "Castle…"

Once again, Rick was reminded that Kate didn't do well with being pushed. But this was important to him. "Okay, you don't have to answer. Just know that I want to spend more time with you. And have dinner with you again. And go out together." He told her sweetly, before smirking in arrogance. "And hopefully also do more of what we did last night." For good measure, he added in a suggestive tone, "A lot more."

Kate was thankful for Rick's attempts to keep things light between them. As stubborn and steel-eyed as she could appear to be, at least Kate was able to recognize how much the writer probably liked her if he was willing to get to know her and not push her. She could tell Castle had been trying his best to understand her and it seemed that he had already learned not to confront her.

She was glad. Beckett knew that she wasn't ready for personal confrontations; but banter… banter she could deal with.

Dirty banter then… that was her forte.

Which is why she wound her arms around his neck and leaned into his naked torso. "So, you liked it, huh?"

"Liked it?" He told her, pulling her even closer to his body. "I loved it. And I gotta say, you were right," He remarked. At the expectant look in her face, he elaborated. "I had no idea."

She gave him a fantastic smile and bit her lip alluringly before murmuring in his ear, "You think you can handle more of what we did last night?"

And just like that, the tables had turned.

Rick's hands lowered to the swell of her backside and he spoke, a little less boldly than before, as he brought her hips closer to his, "Why wouldn't I? I'm not sure _you _can handle it, though. I seem to recall you begging me not to stop just a few hours ago."

Kate ran her tongue over his ear as she purred in his ear, "Yeah, but you're the one who had trouble controlling his reactions once I had you pinned under my body in bed." She heard the faint sound of swallowing coming from his throat and smiled in victory as she lightly bit his earlobe and pressed her hips into his groin.

Yeah, she was definitely winning this.

"Judging by your reaction now, I'd say memories from last night are still fresh in your mind, huh?" She added, conceitedly, in between dropping kisses on his neck.

Frustrated with her antics, Castle momentarily untangled himself from her body to drop the sheets and then returned to her full force, his left hand gripping her butt while his right hand moved daringly in between their bodies, slipping under her robe.

Instinctively, Beckett raised her left leg to his waist, locking her calf on his naked thigh.

Once his hand reached its destination, Castle smirked. Biting the right side of her neck, he whispered in her ear, "From the feel of it, your memories are as good as mine."

Unable to stay immune to the sensation of the novelist's hands on her, Kate sucked hard on the nape of Rick's neck and moaned, all the while moving her right hand south on his body.

The sound of a ringtone coming from Beckett's cellphone startled them momentarily.

"7:15," She announced with a sigh, giving the novelist a slow kiss before turning around to stop the annoying sound coming from her mobile. "You want to take a shower before you leave?" She asked, her back still to him.

Rick wrapped his arms around her from behind and nudged her neck with his nose before answering, "Sure. But I think we still have time for a second round before I have to do that," He added as he untied her robe and slipped his left hand to cover her right breast.

Once again, Kate moaned in a low voice. She was determined not to let him gain control of the situation, though, so she remained as unmoving as she could when she retorted, "Technically, it would be round five."

The writer smirked quietly as he used his talented left hand to gently massage her nipple and his super-gifted right hand to leisurely draw unspecific paths over the front of her body. While his fingers ran lightly over her stomach, he let the sensual rumble of his deep voice fill her ears. "Fifth round, then. I'm thinking, this time, we should try something different."

"Different?" She asked, letting her head fall back on his shoulder once his right hand travelled lower on her body and his left hand moved to torture her left breast.

"Yeah," He answered, moving to kiss her throat. "Not that I didn't enjoy it last night when, after you brought me into the bedroom, you kissed me while you removed my jeans." He ran his lips over the left side of her jaw as he continued, "Or how you let me hold you like this while I removed your bra and leggings, before I kneeled in front of you to admire your body in its full glory."

She tried to force out a sarcastic laugh, but it came out as an aroused whimper. "'Full glory'? You're so cheesy, Castle."

"You didn't think I was cheesy last night when I had you on your back on top of the mattress, a fistful of sheets in your hand and your teeth digging into your bottom lip while I was _worshiping _your body with my mouth." He felt her tremble when he slipped two fingers inside her and leered. "How's that for cheesy?"

Panting, Beckett reached blindly behind her until she found him in his _full glory_, the feel of him burning in her hand. "I don't know. I still think you were cheesy when you chose to be on top, covering my body with yours protectively, for our first time."

"Hey, you and I both know for a fact that you were _very_ appreciative of my actions that first time," He argued, trying his best to control his breathing and keep up with his ministrations while she was fondling him with her left hand. "And, for the record, you were just as grateful when I was covering you protectively on top of the bathroom countertop the third time around."

She tried to shift in his hold so that she could murmur erotically on his right ear, "But not as thankful as you were when I was on top of you for our second time." Gently squeezing him in her right hand, she added, "You even told me you felt _indebted_ to me, remember?"

She grinned smugly when she felt Castle lose some power over his body.

She didn't feel as superior when he managed enough control to slip out of her grasp and rub himself against her ass.

"Yesss," She hissed, powerless to hide her desire any longer.

"You like it when I press against your heinie, Detective?"

"Castle, focus!"

"I am focused," He replied, stroking his fingers inside her rhythmically and merging her hips with his naked body. "See?"

Kate groaned loudly. Without turning around, she flung her left arm around his neck and pulled his face closer to hers, all the while wiggling her derrière against the evidence of his arousal. "I doubt we'll be able to top round four," she commented, hoping it sounded like a dare.

"As amazing as you were in those positions," Rick grumbled, recalling the way her body felt against his when he was holding her up against the bedroom wall and then when she was sitting on his lap in her bedroom chair, "I'm sure we're capable of topping that one too. In fact," He paused his ministrations long enough to place her face down on the mattress, before letting his hands roam her body once again and whispering in her ear, "I can already think of something that I'm sure will be incredible."

He captured her lips with his own, but, before he knew it, she had managed to flip themselves on the bed, landing on top on his naked body and pressing the whole length of her body against his. "I can think of a couple of things, too," Beckett told him, leaning down to kiss him again and roguishly biting his lower lip.

Castle stared at her, dumbfounded by her prowess. "You are truly amazing, you know that?"

The admiration in his eyes overwhelmed her for a moment, but Kate realized that, in this moment, in this bedroom, with this man, she enjoyed the feeling. It was the truth: he made her feel amazing again.

So she smiled at him unreservedly.

Rick could tell there was a mischievous gleam to her eyes and it warmed his heart somehow. It didn't stop him from feeling a bit dazed, anyway. "What?"

Taking notice of the look of complete admiration and confusion in his face, Kate shook her head dismissively, feeling proud at herself for being able to be open and playful right then. Smiling wickedly at him, she said, "I guess it's time we made some new memories, right?"

Castle was momentarily perplexed, but the feeling quickly dissipated once he spied the gorgeous brunette sliding down the bed to lower herself on her knees before him.

She was going to be the death of him.

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**PS: Special thanks to **__**BlueOrchid96 and Liv Wilder for helping me come up with 3,000 different synonyms for "buttocks". And to Tree23: I hope you're happy with Castle's use of the word "heinie".**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N: We're back to a non M-rated story in this chapter. **_

* * *

After their early morning activities, Kate had left Castle in her bedroom and gone into the kitchen to prepare some coffee, while the novelist had resigned himself to taking a shower so that he could leave to meet Alexis for their customary Sunday breakfast date.

Not that he hadn't wanted to meet his teenage daughter – never that. He had just wished he could find a way to stay with Kate for hours on end and _then_ leave to make it in time for his customary Sunday breakfast date with Alexis.

It was a completely reasonable wish.

While getting dressed, the mystery writer had considered as a plausible solution for his dilemma funding a research for time travelling. _Or maybe it could be for time controlling_, his mind had provided. _Okay, maybe just plain time stopping..._

_Sure, because _those _ideas would be the easiest way to solve the matter_, the sardonic voice of reason in his head had scolded.

After the foolish inventive side of him had briefly thought that perhaps founding a parallel universe or something to that effect could work – at that point, Rick had accepted that he really _was_ desperate for _anything_ that would get him to have some more time with Beckett before he had to leave –, Castle had begrudgingly accepted the fact that he would have to leave to meet Alexis without being able to first spend some more time with his...

_His _what_, exactly?_

* * *

Kate was standing at the sink doing the dishes from their dinner the night before when she felt more than heard him coming up behind her.

"I wish I didn't have to leave now," Rick spoke in her ear as he wound his arms around her waist from behind.

The brunette smiled and slightly leaned her back on the author's shoulder, unable to contain the happiness she felt. In moments like this she truly believed she could be carefree again. Trying her best to avoid becoming a sap, though, she continued washing the glass she had on her hands and playfully retorted, "Look at the bright side, Rick. You've already had amazing sex with a superhot detective this morning and it's barely 9am."

He nuzzled the nape of her neck before repeating with a smile, "Amazing sex, huh?"

"Of course. I'm very dedicated to being great at everything I do, even when people around me can't keep up," She joked caustically, managing to sneak a glance at him without fully turning her head back.

"Oh, is that how we're playing now?" He asked, bantering with her good-naturedly, while turning her around so that her whole body was facing him.

"Um-hum," She smiled widely, winding her arms around his neck before dropping a kiss to his lips.

Once their mouths unlocked, Castle commented offhandedly, "This feels nice."

Picking up on his words' meaning – "being together feels nice" –, Beckett's first reaction was to tense up. However, she soon realized that being with Castle like this felt different from being with other men. He was right; it did feel nice. It felt good.

"It kinda does," She admitted to him.

Rick had noticed the initial tension in the detective's body because of his comment and he marveled at the fact that she had agreed with him after giving the matter some quick thought.

"I haven't felt this light in a long time," She continued. "Probably since before my mother died."

The meaningful look she gave him sunk in and he realized with a start what she was telling him: the tragedy that changed her life involved her mother.

Baby steps _did_ work, apparently.

"I'm glad you feel this way now," He told her before lightly kissing her forehead and pulling her into his arms.

As he felt her grow ever more peaceful in his hold, Rick couldn't help but think about all the scenarios in which Kate's mother could have been killed. Had it been a robbery gone wrong? A car accident caused by some drunk driver? Had the older woman been – God forbid – a victim of sexual violence?

It took all the self-restraint he had in him not to push the issue any further right then.

"Thank you," Kate murmured, the sound muffled in his neck.

Castle couldn't tell what exactly she was thanking him for. He only hoped it was a sign that their relationship was evolving.

Deciding to test the waters, he asked after a moment, "You want to come over for dinner tonight?"

Beckett's body contracted in apprehension again, but this time it didn't go away. "At your place?"

"Yeah," The writer said, pulling her closer against his chest and caressing her short hair with one of his large hands.

Despite his efforts, Kate still felt uneasy. "Won't your mother and daughter be there?"

"Probably," He admitted, pulling back a couple of inches to look at the brunette's face. "Is that a problem?"

Kate closed her eyes for a moment, in an attempt to gather her feelings and thoughts.

There was still a large part of her that rationally believed that this thing with Castle would not go well. Clearly, he was impulsive, a man who followed his heart instead of taking a long time to think things through – he was an 'all in' kind of guy. However, that meant there was a great chance that, once the thrill went down, he would eventually get bored and leave her – his track record kind of attested to that. That was a problem for her. Even though she was actually starting to believe that he could be a nice guy, a man who wouldn't intentionally be a jerk to her, he most likely would only end up breaking her heart anyway if she let him truly in.

"Don't overthink things, Kate."

The detective opened her lids, staring straight into Rick's eyes for a moment. He really amazed her with his powers of observation. Dropping her hands from around his neck, she lied, "I'm not overthinking."

The novelist gave her a pointed look.

"I'm not," She added, defensively. "I just don't want to intrude in your family time –"

"It's not intruding if I'm asking you to come," He cut in.

It took her a moment to speak again. "Okay, then I wouldn't be intruding," She accepted his reasoning, but didn't feel any better about the matter. She was still scared. "It's just… I have some things I have to do today and I was really hoping I could get some quiet alone time tonight. I'm sorry."

The look in her face clearly showed how she was basically _pleading_ him not to push this any further.

For a moment, Rick was really sorry he tried to test the waters.

"Of course, I understand," He tried to mask his hurt with nonchalance. "You're coming over for poker night on Tuesday, though, right?"

Kate smiled, relieved he had changed the subject. "You're actually serious about that, huh?"

* * *

Monday came and Beckett was all business at the precinct. She shared with the boys the theories about the murder cases Rick and she had come up with on Saturday – without actually telling them that Castle had been a part of the process, of course – and, after going through the evidence again for a great part of the day, they finally felt confident enough by late afternoon to bother a judge for an arrest warrant for Mason Archibald. Once the arrest was made, the whole case turned into a big story in the evening news – the media went crazy covering the millionaire's arrest for the murders of two young people that came from prominent wealthy families in Manhattan.

Castle was sitting in his office and watching the news, seriously considering calling Beckett to congratulate her on the big arrest, when his phone beeped signaling a text message. He was pleasantly surprised to see that the text came from Kate.

'_The NYPD would like to thank you for your valuable contribution to solving a double murder.'_

Rick beamed, immensely proud that Beckett had thought of texting him to acknowledge his help. He considered for a moment what he should write back and then finally settled on the words he wanted to use. Typing up his message in reply, he checked the text – _'Always a pleasure to be of service to New York's finest. It seems we make a pretty good team, you know. Like Tango & Cash. Or Sonny & Rico. Or Starsky & Hutch.'_ – and then hit send. He grinned to himself and turned his Xbox on, pretty sure he wouldn't get a reply from Kate.

Not five minutes later, his phone beeped again to let him know Kate had sent him a reply. Castle's grin turned even wider when he checked the message.

'_More like Turner & Hooch – you being Hooch, of course.'_

* * *

On Tuesday morning, the victims' families released a public statement in which they profusely thanked the NYPD for their incessant dedication to investigating the killings and putting their children's murderer behind bars. After that, the entire day had gone by with Captain Montgomery getting phone calls from many influential people to congratulate his team for a job well done – even the Mayor had personally placed a call to recognize the 12th Precinct's good work.

Glad to enjoy their good fortune while it still lasted, the Captain and his three detectives left the precinct by 5:30pm and headed straight to Castle's loft for their poker date. They would be worried about arriving too early if it weren't for the fact that Castle had already called Montgomery four times to tell him the earlier they got to the loft, the more they could drink and bet.

All the while, Rick had also been secretly texting Kate to get her to come to his place as soon as possible.

By the time the four cops arrived at Castle's building, the writer had already texted Kate for the sixth time that day. She covertly typed back a reply – _'Stop being so anxious, we're already here.'_ – before they all took the elevator up to the novelist's floor.

When the Captain rang the loft's bell, Castle immediately opened the door with a smile. "You made it!" He greeted warmly as he shook Montgomery's hand before doing the same with Esposito and then Ryan. Once he got to Beckett, his smile turned a little seductive and he planted a kiss to her cheek. "Good evening, Detective."

Beckett rolled her eyes for the benefit of her colleagues as she stepped into the apartment. "Hello, Castle."

The boys were smirking at the writer's attempt at charming their female coworker when they noticed he had moved behind the brunette to take off her coat.

"Here, allow me," Rick told Kate in a quiet voice as he touched her shoulder before slipping the jacket off her body.

She smiled timidly at the novelist's chivalry without paying any attention to the other occupants in the room, who were looking at the scene before them with curious eyes.

Castle somehow noticed it, though. "Why don't I take your coats before we move into the living room?" Rick asked the men in his loft, trying to play down his actions towards the female detective.

The Captain and the other two detectives agreed, each taking off their own jackets before passing them on to Castle.

"Detective Beckett!" Alexis's bright voice reverberated in the room as the teen came down the stairs. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Hello, Alexis," Kate greeted Rick's daughter with an amiable smile, before growing self-conscious as she took notice of the interested looks on her boss and partners' faces in her peripheral vision. "It's nice to see you again."

"You too," Alexis replied with a grin, genuinely pleased to see the female detective.

Castle had heard the exchange between his daughter and his – again, his _what_? – as he put away his guests' coats and couldn't help but feel pleased about the easy interaction the two had shared. Alexis barely knew the detective, but she sounded sincerely delighted to see the woman again.

It seemed as if Kate Beckett had already captured the hearts of both members of the Castle family.

Despite the happy thoughts in his head, the writer also detected some discomfort in Kate's stance once he actually looked at her. He realized such reaction was probably caused by the way the boys were inquisitively watching Kate and Alexis's interactions. Hoping to intervene, Rick minded his manners and addressed the three policemen in the room. "Gentlemen, this is my daughter, Alexis."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Alexis immediately told the men. "It's nice to meet you."

Once they all exchanged polite greetings, Esposito turned to Beckett. "You know Castle's kid, Beckett?"

The implication in the Hispanic's words was unmistakable.

Castle sucked in a deep breath and tried to come up with anything to take the attention off Beckett, but the brunette herself was quicker.

Trying to pass off as casual, Kate mentioned, "We've met a couple of times. Castle's family was here when I came to pick him up for questioning back in September, so that's when I first met Alexis."

"Ah, that's why you look familiar," they all heard the older woman say as she descended the staircase. "Detective Beckett, if I'm not mistaken."

Kate smiled politely as Castle spoke up. "And the old lady with crazy clothes and wild hair is my mother."

"Call me old again, Richard, and I'll spank you in front of your friends," the extravagant woman immediately said, to the chuckles of their visitors. "Martha Rodgers, everyone. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

They all went around a new round of introductions and Martha made sure to keep light conversation going while Castle and Alexis went into the kitchen to get some drinks and snacks.

Rick had never been so glad for his mother's flamboyance in his life.

After Alexis had left to go back to her room with a bottle of water and some peanut butter – not without admonishing her father for insisting that his underage daughter play poker with them on a school night, of all times –, Castle, his mother and the four guests finally sat at the poker table, each with their own beer bottle, and settled to start their game night.

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: This is dedicated to AC (NoOrdinaryLines), a dear friend and dirty thinker who's been using her birthday as an excuse to get drunk and have fanfic writers updating their stories this whole week. So… here you go, AC. Enjoy your most likely last birthday present this year ;)**_

* * *

"I can't believe I'm being robbed in my own home!" Rick complained when Beckett beat him for what seemed to him like the hundredth time that evening.

The group had been playing cards for over four hours, having stopped only to eat some pizza sometime around 9:30pm – Alexis had even joined them for their impromptu meal. The teen had bid them good night an hour after that, but Castle had refused to let his guests feel pressured into leaving then, his mother a helpful influence when she had explained that the only reason Alexis had already left for the night was that the teen was far too responsible for her age.

So they had carried on with their poker night, glad to still be able to enjoy their companionship and easy conversation as they continued to take turns on winning – as it had been going on for the entire evening. So far, Beckett was without a doubt the greatest winner of the night, Castle following in second place, while the other players had had their fair share of wins, except for Martha, who hadn't won a single round yet.

"You're not being robbed, Castle," Kate replied to the writer's mock complaint. "You're getting wiped – there's a difference."

The female detective smirked as the novelist, who was seated to her left, pretended to look chagrined. The Captain and the boys laughed at the brunette's words, while Martha watched the scene in front of her in delight.

"Well, you've definitely found someone who can give you a run for your money, Richard," The older woman commented fondly as she got up to refill her wine glass.

"It seems that way, doesn't it?" Castle replied casually, throwing a warm smile in Kate's way as he shuffled the cards in preparation of the next round of Texas Hold 'Em.

Beckett looked down surreptitiously, trying her best to hide any sign of the blush that threatened to color her cheeks because of Rick's words.

The tenderness on her son's features and the shyness in the brunette's reaction did not go unnoticed by Martha, who had been watching them from the kitchen. She smiled to herself – she definitely liked Kate Beckett.

Before returning to the poker table, the older woman stopped by the stereo system to put on some more music, since the last CD that had been playing – Bob Dylan – had already come to an end.

Ryan started dealing the cards as the first bars of The Rolling Stones's Sympathy for the Devil started to play. "Nice choice, Ms. R." The Irishman said approvingly.

Montgomery, who was sandwiched between Martha and Esposito at the poker table, nodded along but then yawned. "Well, I think this is my last hand for the night," He said, checking his watch.

"Oh, phooey!" Exclaimed Martha as she took her seat. "It's not even midnight!"

"Some people have jobs to go to in the morning, Mother," Rick stated acidly as he checked the cards he'd been dealt.

"Unlike you, you mean," The redhead deadpanned.

"Funny," The bestselling author accepted, voice still laced with sarcasm, while the guests just snickered.

Ryan was still checking his cards after taking a swig of his beer when Martha announced, "I fold."

Esposito looked at her funny before remarking, "If you don't mind me saying, Ms. R., you fold a lot."

"I just don't believe in stringing along a bad hand," She replied theatrically. "Why waste time?"

Rick picked up his phone and started typing something in it while he commented, "Actually, Mother's game isn't really Texas Hold 'Em – it's strip poker." Putting his mobile down, he then added conspiratorially towards the boys, who were seated to his left, "It keeps things humming along, if you know what I mean."

Before the detectives had a chance to digest that information, Martha declared, "Well, frankly, I prefer strip because even when you lose, you win." The diva then winked at the female detective sitting to her left.

Kate and the rest of the room burst into laughter, but the brunette quickly took advantage of the commotion to put her cards down and check her phone, which she had noticed vibrating during Martha's short speech. The younger woman only half paid attention to Esposito placing his bet while she read the text she had received – a message from Castle. _'Stay over tonight'_, it read.

Her heart beat a little faster.

"Beckett?" Castle gently bumped his shoulder into hers in order to catch her attention. "Are you going to place a bet or just keep playing Tetris on your phone?"

Ryan let out a quiet laugh while the other people in the room looked at the brunette in amusement. Rick only smiled at her.

"Right," She conceded as she put her phone down and checked her cards again.

"Montgomery raised to twenty bucks," The novelist said so as to situate her.

Beckett once again took a look at her cards before announcing, "Let's make it a hundred."

Esposito choked on the beer he was drinking. "A hundred bucks?" He asked, surprised.

The game was much more about fun than money – and even if Castle had complained every single time he had lost a hand, it was clear that he and everybody else had been having a great time tonight. By the evening standards, twenty dollars was already a considerable amount of money, so Kate could see why Espo had been startled by her bet.

It didn't get her to backtrack, though. "Man up, _Bro_," She told him teasingly.

"Really?" The Hispanic protested. "I'm out."

Ryan and Montgomery also folded.

"What about you, Castle? Not scared of a little _action_, are you?" Kate taunted him.

Rick smiled feigning self-assurance as he threw his chips in the pot in acceptance of her bet. "'Action' is my middle name."

"Don't worry, Sweetheart, he's bluffing," Martha was quick to assure Kate, affectionately patting her hand. "Whenever he blinks too much, it means he's got a lousy hand."

"Mother!" Rick complained as Ryan dealt the flop. "Stop siding with Beckett, I'm your only child."

Kate laughed while a smiling Martha just shrugged her shoulders and told him, "I like her, Richard."

The younger woman's grin faltered slightly as she considered the redhead's words. Martha had just announced that she liked her, and Kate wasn't stupid – she had noticed the hidden meaning in that sentence. She liked her _for_ Castle.

Oddly enough, Beckett couldn't help but feel… happy. She knew that Castle liked her and now it seemed his family kind of liked her too. Okay, granted, it was somewhat intimidating to think that she could be starting a real relationship with a guy who was much older than her (_he has a teenage daughter, for crying out loud!_), but even so Kate herself had already taken a liking to Martha and Alexis as well. And of course she liked Castle, there was no discussion about that – actually, after watching him interact with his family, she liked him even a little better. What worried her the most at this point was that this whole evening had been going great, and she couldn't help but feel… happy. It really scared her, this feeling of pure, unadulterated joy. It made her think of everything she stood to lose if she went ahead with this and things went south after a while.

But she was starting to genuinely enjoy feeling joyful anyway.

After checking the new cards on the table, the writer had started eagerly tapping his index finger on his cards, an action that certainly hadn't gone undetected by Martha.

So as Kate snapped out of her short-lived reverie and tried her best to hide her lack of enthusiasm at the flop, she also heard Martha whisper a "Uh-oh" in her ear. Turning to look at the older woman inquisitively, the detective asked what she had meant by that.

"He's not blinking anymore – now he's tapping," The extravagant redhead observed. "That means he might have the nuts."

Castle watched the two women bonding over his poker habits – still a little irked by his mother's lack of loyalty to him – and smirked arrogantly at Beckett when she looked at him. "What's the matter, Detective? You're not afraid of a little action, are you?"

_Oh, so that's how he wants to play this?_

Kate pushed all of her chips towards the center of the table without taking her eyes off his. "All in."

The flamboyant diva then smiled, pleased by the sassiness in the younger woman's actions. Yes, this lady would definitely give her son a run for his money.

The Captain and the other two detectives had also been watching this entire interaction with interest and, the moment Kate decided to go head to head against Castle, they all started cheering animatedly.

Beckett laughed as cries of "Take him down!", "Yeah, make him pay!" and even a "Do me proud, Detective," were heard in the room.

Martha watched her son intently as he glanced down at his hand before looking up at Kate's face, his expression showing nothing. Then she noticed as the writer glanced around the table at the other players for a moment, and then silently rested his cards on the table, face down.

He folded.

Kate laughed gleefully as she pulled the pile of chips toward her, and Montgomery, Ryan and Esposito's catcalls completely took over the room, the sound of The Rolling Stones's Brown Sugar suddenly barely audible in the background.

"Way to go, Beckett!" Ryan told her.

"Maybe someone should change their middle name to 'Loser"," Esposito added, provocatively.

Rick took it all in stride. "What can I say? Guess it just wasn't my night." He smiled lightly and finished his beer before adding, "Maybe I should've invited you to a night of Xbox gaming instead."

"Dude, you're a gamer?" Espo asked excitedly, Ryan suddenly appearing next to his partner with an eager look on his face as well.

"Of course!" Castle replied, just as enthusiastically. "You want to play some Madden now?" He asked, already turning around to go into his office and motioning the boys to follow him.

Kate thought that the look of pure elation on the faces of these three grown men at the prospect of playing videogame resembled the look of little boys who just got to visit Disney World for the first time in their lives. It made her smile.

Similarly, Martha was shaking her head warmheartedly.

Montgomery finished his beer as he noticed the men in the other room discussing who got to play first. "Well, I guess that's my cue to leave," He said, more to Beckett and Martha than to anyone else, as he put on his coat. He then addressed his protégée directly when he asked, "Are you coming or staying?"

Martha watched the brunette closely as she decided what she should do, until Castle reemerged from his office and noticed Montgomery was ready to leave. "Running home to Evelyn, Roy?" The writer asked.

The older man smiled at his friend. "When you are surrounded by a bunch of men arguing over playing a videogame and you have a beautiful woman who loves you waiting for you at home, there's really not much of a doubt about what to do."

Rick smirked and looked at Kate. "You're staying, right?" At Beckett's deep, panicked breath, Castle realized how his question sounded. "For Madden," He amended.

Of course he wanted her to spend the night. He had even already asked her to stay – and she hadn't replied yet, had she? –, but at that moment he had honestly meant to ask her to stay just to play with his Xbox. He wouldn't put her on the spot by asking her to spend the night with him in front of her boss and his mother.

Kate seemed to still be considering how to respond to his invitation, so he decided to force her hand. "Unless you're afraid I'll beat you and embarrass you in front of your friends."

That did it for her. "I'm staying, all right."

Montgomery smirked at Beckett's determination and said his good night to everyone before leaving the loft. Martha then moved to clean up the poker table just as Rick asked Kate, "Would you help me get some more beers for us all?"

"Sure," The brunette replied, already moving ahead of him.

Castle followed Kate into the kitchen and, as he opened the fridge and she bent over to pick up some beer bottles, he bent down next to her and spoke into her right ear in a low voice, "So, will you stay over tonight? I promise I'll be good."

Still crouching, Kate passed two Heinekens to Castle and turned her head to whisper close to his lips, "If you'll be good, then why do you want me to stay?" She raised her left brow at him sinfully before turning her attention back to picking up the beer bottles from the fridge.

"See, I was hoping you'd say that. I can totally be bad too if you want," He immediately replied eagerly.

Beckett stood up carrying two Heinekens in her own hands and then settled the bottles on the counter before resuming her conversation with the man also standing in front of her. "Castle, I'm not staying over when your Mother and _daughter_," she emphasized, though still managing to keep a low tone, "are in the loft. Do you bring every woman you sleep with into your home and near your family?"

"Of course not," He was quick to reassure her. "Actually, aside from Alexis's mother and my second ex-wife, I think maybe just two other women have stayed in the loft when my kid was around, and at that time Alexis wasn't even old enough to realize they were my girlfriends."

The full meaning of his words sank in – she's not just a woman he's slept with, he doesn't easily let his _girlfriends_ hang around his family – and Kate froze to her spot. The quietness between them attested to the seriousness of the moment, and she couldn't think of anything to say to him at that point to break the silence. Neither could Rick – he'd made this first step; he needed to see how she'd react to it.

Almost a minute had passed and then the two of them became aware of The Rolling Stones's Let's Spend The Night Together playing in Rick's state of the art music system. He saw a flicker of amusement in Kate's eyes and he decided to jump in. "See, even the music Gods think that you should stay," He told her then, hoping for levity, as he tried to break the tension.

Her smile grew a bit, but she still felt nervous. "Castle, I…" she trailed off.

"Are you _making_ the beers, Kiddo?" They both heard Martha loudly ask in sarcasm from where she was standing near the poker table and as they turned to face the older woman they also noticed the boys back in the living room.

"We'll talk later," Rick told her before walking back towards his guests, beer bottles in hand.

* * *

While her son and his companion had been interacting in the kitchen, Martha had taken advantage of the fact that she had been alone at the poker table and furtively checked the cards Richard had discarded in the final round. She had been surprised – and then not so surprised – to learn that he had actually thrown his hand in order to let Kate win.

Her son, the misguided gentleman.

The older redhead had then lifted her eyes to look at the duo in the kitchen, taking notice of the tension between them. Deep in her heart she had wanted to give them some privacy, but she had found it impossible not to watch them, this romantic couple definitely in development.

Only she had spotted the two male detectives coming out of her son's office and knew she would have to interrupt the twosome in the kitchen. So, staying put by the poker table, she had raised her voice and asked sarcastically, "Are you _making_ the beers, Kiddo?"

Martha watched the pair walk back towards the living room, her son passing the Heinekens he was carrying over to his new two buddies and then taking one of the beer bottles Kate had with her – the one she was holding in her outstretched hand – for himself.

That small, unrehearsed act was also one of the things that brought a smile to her lips.

Soon enough, the four younger people had fallen into conversation, and Martha decided to finish cleaning.

* * *

As they all started making their way into Castle's office to start their gaming, Beckett noticed Martha carrying some empty beer bottles into the kitchen. Feeling ashamed for her manners, she walked back towards the poker table to help with the cleaning. "I'll take care of this for you, Martha."

"Nonsense, Darling!" She replied from behind the kitchen counter.

But Kate was already picking up the last empty beer bottles and moving towards the kitchen. "Really, it's no trouble. We've already invaded your privacy, the least I can do is clean this all up."

The older woman gracefully acquiesced, stepping from behind the counter and giving a startled Beckett a hug before announcing, "I hope to see you again, my dear."

And with that, Martha asked Kate to pass her wishes of a good night along to the boys and went up the stairs to her room.

The brunette was still trying to comprehend what had just happened when she felt Rick coming up behind her. "Where's Mother?" He asked, careful not to touch her.

"She went to bed," Kate replied, skillfully avoiding looking at Rick while she picked up all the poker chips. "I told her I'd clean this up for her."

Rick's arms then went around her frame as he pried the chips out of the detective's hands. "You don't have to do that. I'll deal with this in the morning."

She tried to get away from him, but the writer only strengthened his grasp on her. "Castle, no," She said then. "The boys can come in at any minute."

"Pff, are you kidding me?" He said, turning Kate in his arms so she was facing him while pressed against the poker table. "They're already playing Madden. They're totally 'in the zone' by now." Castle brought his left hand to cup her cheek while he ran his right hand up and down her waist before whispering, "Plus, I've been waiting the whole evening to do this." And then his lips met hers, finding no resistance.

* * *

It was close to 2am when they all decided to leave. Well, when Kate prompted them all to leave.

She had been sitting on one of the leather chairs in Castle's office as the host had been going over his selection of games, half standing, half bent over the lower shelves by the windows, the boys still battling each other over Madden. At first, she had been admiring the view outside, the concrete landscape magically complimented by the street lights and the night sky, but then her eyes had drifted of their own volition down towards Rick's form, taking in his strong, broad shoulders, his hulking biceps and thick triceps, the solid muscles on the back of his torso and then finally – _oh, man!_ – the impressive round shape of his backside.

_Hmm… that really is one hot bubble butt_, she had thought to herself.

She had been so lost appreciating his impressive – _yummy_ – physique that she had failed to notice him turning his head back to look at the boys and then catching her staring at his body. So, really, it had been the sound of his throat clearing in obvious haughtiness that had brought her out of her stupor.

And when her eyes had finally met his, he had _smirked_.

His overconfidence should have been a turn off for her – before they got together, it _would_ have been – but as he had held that look to her, she had felt butterflies fluttering inside her. So she had decided then to do what she did best: run.

"I think I should call it a night," She had announced to the room.

Despite Castle's numerous attempts to stop her – none of which had carried any hint of personal pleas since they had still been in the presence of the boys –, Kate had been resolute to go back to her place.

Her determination had forced the boys into thinking it would be best for them to leave as well, so they had both gotten up to take their beer bottles back into the kitchen and at last left Rick alone with Kate for a while.

"You really can stay, Kate." Castle said, taking a step closer to her. "I want you to."

"I know you do." The brunette sighed. She tried to come up with an excuse, but decided to be honest for once, even if the reason she was about to give him was only the tip of the iceberg for her. "I'm just not sure I'm ready to face your family that way yet."

The novelist's eyes widened a little, as if he had been startled by her bout of honesty, and Beckett wondered how bad it was when someone who was just getting to know you could already tell how closed off you were.

Rick tried to come up with something that could convince her to stay, but came up short. The only think he could think of was doing a celebratory dance in his head for the fact that Kate had said she wasn't ready "yet" – he even congratulated his mind for focusing on the bright side of her speech. Without thinking, he suggested stupidly, "You can leave before they wake up." The moment the words left his lips he realized what he had said and hastily added, "Not that I think you need to do that!"

Kate couldn't help but laugh a little at his uneasiness over being misinterpreted. "It's okay, I know what you mean. I just –"

"We called the cab company, they'll be here any minute." Ryan unknowingly interrupted as he walked into the room. He noticed Castle and Beckett standing relatively close together and crooked his neck, looking at them funny.

"We should probably head downstairs!" Esposito added from the living room as he put on his coat, his voice affording Beckett enough distraction to take a step away from Castle.

When Ryan's attention was back to the pair in front of him, Kate was already leaving the office and thanking Castle for having them over.

The writer found himself saying goodbye to the boys with an elaborate handshake – something that Esposito had taught him how to do sometime during their evening – and then placing a chaste kiss on Beckett's left cheek. Although he did manage to cover it well, Rick was reluctant to escort his guests to his door and end the night.

After the trio had left, the only sound Rick could hear in the loft was The Rolling Stones's You Can't Always Get What You Want playing in the background.

* * *

"I can take my own cab, you know," Beckett said to Esposito and Ryan as they waited for the elevator in Castle's hallway.

"Don't sweat it," Esposito told her. "We'll share the cab – it's only a few blocks out of our way."

"Chelsea is not just a few blocks out of your way to Brooklyn," She rebuked him good-heartedly.

He just shrugged as Ryan said, "It's still okay."

The elevator doors opened and the three of them stepped in just as she said, "Thanks, guys."

During the entire ride down to the lobby, Kate's mind was still reeling from Castle's implied admission that he thought of her as his girlfriend. She recalled that, when he asked her out a couple of weeks before, he told her that he wanted something real, but she didn't think he was serious about it. At least not serious enough to introduce her to his family as the woman he was in a relationship with – which was sure to happen if she spent the night at his place. Then again, his family had already met her – and they _liked_ her (if she hadn't already been sure about that, the fact that Rick probably wouldn't have asked her to stay over if he thought it would be a problem with his mother and daughter would have been a great indicator too).

So, apparently he was serious about her. If she wanted, she could be Rick Castle's girlfriend.

Huh.

Kate wondered then if Castle and she could make the relationship work. He was, after all, a world-renowned, bestselling mystery novelist whereas she was just a police detective. Not only that, she was a _broken_ police detective, with so many personal issues she wasn't sure he'd even consider being with her if he knew the half of it.

But, so far, he only seemed to be pushing her into revealing her problems to him. He knew she had a lot of barriers – he most likely didn't grasp why they were there in its entirety, but he could tell from the get-go that she had been fighting personal demons for a long time – and still he wanted to be with her.

By the time the elevator reached the ground floor, Beckett realized that here she was, trying to convince herself that being with Castle wasn't a good idea, when just a few weeks ago she almost had to be forced by Lanie to go on a date with the guy. The fact that, subconsciously, she had come to accept the thought of maybe being involved with Rick had to count for something, right? Maybe – just maybe – she could let herself be in a real relationship with him – including spending time with his family – and see how it would go.

As the boys got settled in the cab, she made a decision. Stopping by the sidewalk, she said, "Shoot. I forgot my piece upstairs."

Ryan was kind enough to offer, "Okay. We'll wait for you here."

"Nah, that's okay," She deflected. "You're going to Brooklyn, guys. There's no need to be a burden to you – I'll take a cab on my own."

"You sure?" Espo asked.

She nodded. "Don't worry about it. Night, guys."

They said their goodbyes to her and as the cab sped off Kate walked into the lobby again, signaling to the doorman that she was going back upstairs. She got into the elevator and put her hands in her pockets, anxiously waiting for the lift to stop at Castle's floor.

Once she stepped back into the hallway on Rick's floor, she pulled out her phone.

* * *

The Rolling Stones's Start Me Up had just started playing on the sound system when Rick's phone vibrated. Putting away the deck of cards, he checked the text Kate had sent him and almost ran to the front door.

Forgotten on the poker table, Castle's phone still displayed the text he had received – _'I'm outside your door. Are you going to let me in or not?'_

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N: This was supposed to be M-rated for sexual content, but I ended up writing a bit more than I expected before it got to that part. So enjoy this smut-free chapter!**_

* * *

The moment the red steel door opened in front of her, Beckett almost laughed at the look of complete excitement and astonishment in Castle's face.

"Hey," He greeted her, not even bothering to try to look cool. "You came back."

He sounded so… amazed at her. It made her happy. _Really_ happy.

She looked down shyly before bringing her eyes up again to stare into his blue irises. With a bashful smile, she replied stupidly, "I did."

_God, we must look like teenagers._

The writer's grin turned even wider at Kate's sudden inhibition and then he took her hand. "Come in," He gently tugged her inside the loft and closed the door behind her. After a few seconds of simply watching the brunette in front of him in something akin to admiration, he declared in a low voice, "I'm glad you came back."

Rick's words caused her heart to swell with elation, butterflies taking up residence in her stomach, and the best she could do at this point was smile as he cupped her face and gently touched his lips to hers. She could feel the softness of his fingers caressing her cheeks and the moisture of his tongue against her upper lip, which was trapped between his own. She wound her arms around his waist and let a sight escape her as he gradually slowed their kiss until their mouths were no longer joined.

"I'm glad I came back too," She breathed out after a moment spent running her hands over his back and relishing the feel of his fingers tangled in her hair and the weight of his forehead resting against hers.

Rick could no longer contain his exhilaration inside, and he leaned down to Kate again, this time kissing her harder, letting his passion and arousal show. Unconsciously, she moaned and then let her back fall against the front door, never releasing her grip on Castle's body – if anything, she managed to pull him even closer to her, aligning his whole body with hers without breaking their kiss.

When the need for air became unbearable, the two of them allowed their lips to unlock, Castle involuntarily rocking his hips into hers. His action caused Kate to instinctively lift her left leg, her inner thigh rubbing against his right quad for a moment, before she moved her leg back down.

The novelist took a series of deep breaths, trying his best to force his desire down, and offered, still panting, "Do you, uh… can I get you a drink?"

Beckett watched him curiously, unable to understand why Castle was trying to calm himself down instead of moving back to kiss her again and then just take her against the front door in his loft – she flushed a little at the thought. After watching him for a short while, a thought occurred to her. "Castle," She started, letting her arms come up to circle his neck and pull him closer to her fondly, "are you nervous?"

"A little bit." He admitted, letting a timid smile show on his face as he stroked her waist. "You came back, Kate," He acknowledged, letting his thumbs draw circles on the sides of her taut abdomen and showing her how much it meant to him that she had come back – especially since he knew that it had probably been a really difficult thing for her to do.

A feeling of unadulterated affection for this man arose inside Kate's chest and left her not knowing what to do with it.

Afraid to let the mood get too serious, Castle changed the subject. "But really, would you like something to drink? I wouldn't want you to pass out on me from dehydration."

"Dehydration?" Beckett repeated in curiosity, glad for the chance to ignore the warmth in her body caused by his hands and previous words. "That's presumptuous, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, I wouldn't say so – I mean, I do have the entire night, don't I?"

Kate knew his tone was teasing, but the detective in her could also detect the uncertainty in his statement – she had to change that. "Yes, Rick. We have the entire night."

His smile was close to blinding when he murmured a "great" and leaned in for another kiss.

A few moments into the kiss, Kate felt Castle carefully pull away from her before the writer muttered "I'll be right back" and took a few steps towards the living room, leaving her standing alone by the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked dumbly as he moved toward the sound system.

Silently, Rick gave her a placatory look and then went over the songs in The Rolling Stones's CD. Finally settling on the track he had been looking for, he smiled and pressed play before confidently strolling back to her.

Music filled the room again – Beckett hadn't even noticed when it had stopped – and immediately she recognized the song, even with the volume as low as it was. "'(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction'? Really, Castle?" The brunette asked, partially amused, partially aroused.

"I think it's fitting," He replied as he moved in to kiss her, his hands at first cupping her face and then each moving to the back of her neck and lower torso as the kiss grew more intense.

When Rick's hand moved even lower and her butt was perfectly molded to his palm, Kate wound her legs around his waist, clenching her thighs around his body to keep herself in place as their lips remained locked together. His other hand immediately went down to her backside as well, all of his fingers needling her butt cheeks as his palms held up her weight, and then his legs started moving to carry them further into the living room. The two of them had to momentarily break their kisses while the novelist deposited Kate on the poker table, but as soon as she was safely seated on its wooden edge the couple resumed their making out session.

Castle's thorough kisses left the brunette feeling desperately aroused, and before she even knew what she was doing, Kate lied down on the table and pulled his body on top of hers. Rick's instant response was to groan into her neck as he ran his hands on her sides, draping her legs around his waist and pushing into her body.

"Too bad Alexis is home," He managed to choke out in between kissing her collarbone, "I never had sex on a poker table."

Beckett let out a throaty laugh that evidenced her amusement and arousal before she rolled them on their sides, stopping their activities from going any further now that she remembered – that he reminded them – that his family was just a few yards away and could walk in on them at any minute. "Somehow I can't believe that," She told him, tenderly running her index finger up and down the bridge of his nose.

He smiled, jokingly attempting to bite her moving finger while he replied, "I swear, I never had sex on a poker table. Before tonight, I had never played with a woman I was involved with – or wanted to be involved with."

"It's a good thing you never played poker with someone you were attracted to," Kate started to tell him, her own laugh interrupting her train of thought for a moment when he took her wandering hand in his and trapped her index finger between his lip-covered teeth. "You'd get utterly distracted by the hot woman next to you and then your playing skills would suffer – just like it happened tonight."

Castle let her finger drop from his mouth and raised his eyebrows, mockingly taking offense. "Excuse me? My poker skills were just fine tonight."

"Oh, really?" Beckett chuckled. "So you always lose when you play?"

"I didn't lose tonight," He replied in all seriousness.

The detective rolled her eyes at him. "Is this one of those 'I lost the game but I got you' lines? Because that's really corny."

Despite his best efforts, Rick grinned at her words. "Okay," He started in reply to her statement, "one – I'm a writer; I would never say something so unoriginal like that; and two – I really didn't lose at poker tonight."

"Castle, we went head to head on that last round and I got all your chips. That's the definition of losing!" Kate gloated.

"That?!" The author suddenly sat up on the poker table. "I let you win that one so you wouldn't look bad in front of your friends!"

Beckett smirked as she moved to sit up as well. "Wow, Castle, I didn't have you pegged as such a sore loser – I mean, making up excuses…?"

"I'm serious," He told her as he bent over her body to pick up the deck of cards lying on the table somewhere behind her. "I had a full house – three 7's and two 2's – but I threw my hand so not to embarrass you in front of the captain and the boys," He explained as he showed her the first cards at the top of the deck – the cards that made up for the final flop and for their last hands – in order to prove his point. "See?" He pointed out, wallowing triumphantly.

When the novelist noticed the look in Kate's eyes, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You let me win?" She asked with her eyes narrowed at him.

To say Beckett looked completely riled up would be an understatement. For a moment there Castle actually thought laser beams would shoot out of her eyes and strike him.

Gulping, the best-selling author stuttered, "I, uh…"

"Castle, I don't want you patronizing me!"

"I wasn't patronizing you;" He told her, finding his voice. "I was being nice!"

"Nice?" The brunette spat out. "You want to be nice to me? You play fair and square so I can beat you honestly!"

_Argh, she's such a hardhead._

Hoping to put an end to this so they could get back to making out – preferably, in his bedroom –, he announced, "Ok, fine. Next time, I will."

"No," She refuted, crossing her arms in front of her body. "I want a rematch now."

"Now?" Castle whined. He loved poker, but not when all he wanted to do was take the beautiful woman in front of him to his bed. "Kate, it's late and we should…"

"We can play for clothing," She interrupted him.

"I'm game," He agreed without missing a beat, already picking up the deck of cards and pulling Kate off the table by her hand.

The detective smiled as she followed Castle, not at all surprised that he had reacted like this to her offer of playing some strip poker. _Men_.

She had been so caught up in her mind that it took the bed in front of her to realize that had taken her into his bedroom. She tried to discreetly take a look around the room, but as soon as the hunky man's lips descended on hers she failed to think of anything else.

Once the two of them broke off their kiss, the writer handed her the deck of cards with a smile. "You get yourself settled by the headboard; I'll get us some wine and snacks." He then dropped a chaste kiss to her lips and whispered "be back in a sec" before leaving the room.

While Castle was away Beckett had a chance to take a better look around the room. This was his bedroom, the place he reserved for himself and for those people who knew him best. And even though it was her first time here, as she took in the paintings on the walls, the color schematics of the room, the pictures on his dresser, she couldn't help but feel she already knew the place.

Oddly enough, this beautiful, calm, understated, manly lair somehow fit Rick.

Of course, on the outside the writer was more playful and joyful than all the brown in the room seemed to denote, but so what? She wasn't expecting him to have a clown painting hanging on his wall just to prove a point. Besides, evidence of his lighter side could already be found in his office – the Xbox, the quirky decoration pieces on the shelves – and that office was an extension to his bedroom. But this here, in his actual bedroom area? This was better. Here was where Castle would want to let his private self come out – the person who he felt he was, not the persona he portrayed to the public. This was where the real man who cherished his family lived, not a place where you would find the flashy character he'd created for the media in order to sell books. And the whole room just screamed to Kate that, despite the fact that Rick was extroverted, energetic and spontaneous, he was also a mature man who wanted some quiet time in his life.

The room was evidence that he wanted a real relationship. It was evidence that he thought spending time with his family at home was more important and pleasant than going out to party.

It was evidence that he could be the man she needed to help her move on in her life.

Kate was smiling at her thoughts just as Rick walked back into the bedroom bearing a bottle of Château Ducru-Beaucaillou and two wine glasses in one hand while he balanced a tray with some cheese, chocolate and a bottle of sparkling water in the other.

"There we go," He announced as he set everything down on the bed. After he got himself settled across from her, he added, "I hope you're ready to lose, Detective."

She playfully narrowed her eyes at him and started shuffling the cards. "I'm going to beat your pants off, Castle."

His smile widened to his ears. "Yes, please, beat my pants off."

Kate shook her head, trying to hide her amusement from him, and spoke up. "Before we start playing, I think it's best for us to work out a few ground rules."

Rick could not believe the words that had just left her mouth. "Are you kidding me? You can't be a stickler for rules even when you're playing strip poker!" He mockingly berated her before leaning in to murmur close to her face, "Don't you ever let your hair down, Detective? A little cops gone wild?"

Kate pressed her hands down on the mattress in front of her body and leaned in even closer to Rick's face, his breath mingling with her own. "What do you think this is?" She asked him in a seductive whisper, before adding in the same alluring voice, "Or do you think I interview suspects by playing one on one strip poker in their bedrooms?"

The novelist's mind was already reeling with pictures her sentence had conjured up. "That sounds like something out of a porn movie. A _good_ porn movie, by the way."

Kate willed her face to remain impassive, but she was sure he could see the corners of her mouth twitch up to form a grin. "The point is," She resumed talking as she rested her body back against the headboard, "I think it's important for us to decide on a couple of things so that no one feels cheated."

"If you're still wearing anything by the time we're done playing, I'll feel cheated." He mumbled, but then his eyes sparkled mischievously. "Unless it's your heels – I'd be okay with you leaving them on."

Kate pursed her lips. "Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"You're rambling."

"Sorry."

This time, she didn't even try to hide her smile.

"So, ground rules," Castle was the one to steer them back in the right direction.

"Yeah, I was thinking that, in order for the game to be fair, we both should have the same number of pieces of clothing."

"Okay," Rick agreed. "So, I've got my shirt, a belt, my pants, underpants, a pair of socks and shoes – that's six items. You've got a shirt, probably a bra…" He dragged the last word out, raising his brows at her inquiringly in hopes she'd give him any clue about whether or not she had a bra on.

"Yes," She answered his implied question, smirking.

"Damn," He muttered before picking up his count. "So, shirt, bra, pants, panties," He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at this, "and shoes – so that's five for you." He paused for a moment before he suggested, "I could just take off my belt and we'd be good to go."

"Actually, how about we remove our shoes and socks? That way we'll have the same amount of clothes and we can already start playing with one less piece of clothing in the way."

"Are you sure?" Rick asked, hesitantly. "Maybe we should leave the shoes on."

In her mind, Kate had already been expecting Castle to come up with some sexual innuendo to her idea – it was actually why she had suggested stripping their shoes before the game started in the first place –, so she was more than a bit shocked to see that he was not jumping at this.

"Castle, what is it? I know you don't have smelly feet, so why don't you want to start off without your shoes?"

"Okay, fine." He relented, taking off his Ferragamos and then stripping his feet of his pair of dark blue socks.

Then, shamefacedly, he removed another pair of black socks of his feet.

And then another one.

Kate looked at him, a mix of incredulity and laughter in her eyes. "You were cheating?!"

The writer looked at her as if her question were absurd. "Well, yeah! Where's the fun in playing strip poker fair and square?"

"I don't know, Castle. I was kind of expecting you to be jumping at the chance to get naked with me."

"Well, of course I want _you_ naked," He started to explain.

"Castle?" She interrupted. Once she was sure she had his attention, she said, "If I'm going to be half-dressed or even naked in your bed, you'd better be joining me in my state of undress."

As soon as the words sank in, Rick let out a happy, eager smile. "Got it."

"So," she started talking as she removed her high heels, "we'll each start with four items?"

"Yes," He agreed immediately. "The less, the merrier!"

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	17. Chapter 17

_**A/N: As you all probably expected, this chapter is M-rated for sexual content – REALLY M-rated in a particular section. You've been warned. If someone has a problem with that, well, then you really should have thought of reviewing earlier to let me know… ;)**_

_**In any case, I'd like to point out that even the dirty bits matter to the story as a whole (seriously!). So if you don't wish to read the, well, dirtier bits, let me know – via review, PM, twitter, what have you – and I'll try to let you know why the sex part mattered.**_

_**I hope you all like this, anyway. And I'm extremely sorry for taking this long to update.**_

* * *

"Are you serious?!" Rick whined as he saw the brunette in front of him laying her cards down on the center of the mattress – their makeshift poker table.

"What can I say, Rick?" Kate bragged unabashedly. "I guess it's just my lucky night," She added, mocking him and flirtatiously glancing at his naked torso.

The novelist gave her an annoyed, pointed look.

When the two of them had started playing strip poker, Castle had thought it sounded like a great idea, a special opportunity to have fun and enjoy some nude time with a beautiful lady – not just any lady; with Kate Beckett, the woman who should hold the Guinness record as the woman who had most quickly won over a man's – his – heart.

Their strip poker showdown had even had a promising start in Castle's opinion, with his flush beating her single pair of 9's in the first round and leading to her striping off her black dress pants.

Whistling lewdly, he had told her, _"I think this is my lucky night."_

Their second round had Beckett's hand beating his – and, okay, he had enjoyed that too, deciding to make the best of the fact that he had a chance to be naked _with_ her in his bedroom and, therefore, foregoing his belt in favor of losing his shirt first.

"_I'm hoping this way you'll get lost in the broad expanse of my strong, muscular torso and while you're staring at said well-built chest I'll just take all of your clothes,"_ He had daringly teased then.

But then, Kate had beat him in the following round, prompting the bestselling author to remove his belt, and then again in the round after that – their current round. Meaning he would have to strip off his trousers and be left in the uncomfortable position of having to sit there, only in his Thomas Nash navy silk boxers, while she still had (most of) her clothes on. Not to mention he would have to live with the fact that she was in fact beating his pants off at strip poker.

Clearly, his stripping-to-distract tactic hadn't worked exactly as he had planned.

"C'mon, Castle," Kate's voice brought him back to the present times. "Just take it off and let's get this over with."

Rick gave the woman sitting across from him yet another pointed look and then said, "You know, normally I would like where all of this stripping thing was headed. Right now? Not so much."

The brunette tried to hide her smirk behind the curtain of her brown, wavy hair, but as the brawny man in front of her stood up – resignedly – to take off his pants, she realized that her locks would obstruct the spectacular view in front of her. Lifting her head and leaning back on the headboard, the detective grinned appreciatively, "I don't know, Rick, I kinda like where this is going."

"You mean my stripping or your winning?" He immediately asked, eyes gleaming in anticipation.

Giving him a smile that could only be described as wicked, Kate rose up onto her hands and knees and sinfully slinked her way down the mattress until she reached him, her palms then going to his torso to support her weight as she inched her way up his body. Her lips found his right ear, teeth gently sinking on his earlobe as she whispered seductively, "My winning, of course."

The novelist could not voice out any specific words, only the sound of his aroused growl leaving his mouth while his hands went around to cup his girlfriend's – _is it safe to call her my girlfriend now?_ – derrière. When the feel of… lace – _oh, God_ – was detected by his hands, Rick pulled Kate's body closer to his, their hips connecting and his lips kissing her neck, her jaw, her cheek and, finally, her lips, their tongues searching, heat and desire taking over their bodies momentarily.

"Suddenly, I don't feel like playing anymore," He muttered in between kisses.

It should have sounded amused, but the throaty laugh that the attractive detective let out was a testament to her own arousal. "Of course you don't want to play anymore; you're losing," She said, hoping for teasing but only managing to sound even more alluring as her nails coursed over the sensitive skin on his back.

"Trust me, this has nothing to do with me losing," Rick retorted, biting on her pulse point and pressing his erection against her center. "And for the record, I haven't actually lost."

"You're down to your boxers, writer boy," Kate pointed out laughing, the sound erotic as her head fell back in pleasure.

_Writer boy_? Huh… he liked it.

He gathered most of her brown locks in his hand and gave them a gentle tug, exposing the column of her neck to his lips. "In my book, that's winning actually."

"That's winning in life, Rick, not at poker," She bounced back, her words blending with the moan she let out at the feel of his tongue running over her skin. "At least I got to prove to you that I would've won earlier even if you hadn't thrown your hand."

His ministrations stopped and he pushed her body a few inches away from his, still holding her upper arms in his hands. "No, you haven't! You wouldn't have won earlier and you didn't win now either."

Beckett glared at him. "Really, Castle? Want to put your money where your mouth is?"

"Oh, you're on!" He chuckled arrogantly. "Double or nothing. If you get the next round, I'm the big loser of the night – and by loser, I still mean winner," He told her, throwing her a wink at that last part. "But if I win next round," He added, "you have to strip off _two_ pieces of clothing."

The brunette raised one of her eyebrows and held out her right hand. "Deal."

Rick smirked as he shook her hand and then settled back onto the bed for their next round of strip poker, his silk boxers still tented due to his sizeable erection. Kate noticed that fact and, smiling, threw a pillow on his lap.

"Have some modesty, Castle," She told him, playfully.

He smiled self confidently. "You're just afraid I'll get you all hot and bothered and you'll be distracted from the game."

"When it comes to being all hot and bothered, Rick," The detective spoke in a low voice, opening the top two buttons of her dark blue dress shirt nonchalantly and partially revealing her bra through the cleavage, "I can assure you that you'd be much more distracted from the game if I were the one basically naked in here right now."

The writer gaped at her, eyes glued to the exposed skin in her chest even when his right hand went to his lap under the pillow as he attempted to adjust the blatant evidence of his arousal. "I – uh…" He tried to speak, but he was unable to form a coherent sentence.

Now it was Kate's turn to smirk. "Just deal the cards, Castle."

His eyes briefly focused on hers, his mind managing to move past his desire to absorb her words. He followed her instructions, dealing them each a hand of two cards and, since the bets had already been made, immediately dealing the flop.

Castle's eyes travelled from his cards – a ten and a queen of spades – to the community cards – a jack of spades, a three of diamonds and a king of spades. He mused on his chances of winning the game and then took a look at Kate's face. The detective's face seemed impassive, but he thought her eyes glowed a little more than usual. _Maybe she has a good hand…?_

"Do you want to add to our bet?" Castle asked, moving to take a sip of his wine.

"What, sexual favors?" She deadpanned.

Rick actually choked on his drink. "Oh my, don't you have a dirty mind…" He said once he managed to recover, eyes shining in a mix of complete mirth and admiration. "I was thinking more along the lines of food – for breakfast."

"Oh. That could work too," The brunette replied, pretending to look innocent while at the same time pursing her lips seductively.

Castle smiled at her, in awe. "Wow. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"So many layers to the Beckett onion, you don't know the half of it..." She joked.

Her tone was teasing, but Castle didn't doubt her words for a second. "I'll look forward to peeling them all off, then. Especially if it means I'll find out just how kinky you are," He told her, lewdly.

Beckett bit her lower lip, smiling flirtatiously. "Deal the turn, Rick. Let's see about raising the bets then."

The novelist didn't miss the double meaning of her words.

Obediently, Rick placed the fourth community card, a king of diamonds, on the mattress.

Kate glowed and said, "I'll raise you a plate of eggs and bacon, Castle."

Castle became nervous. "That good a hand, huh?"

"Wanna take a peek?" She teased. "You have to do something about the bet first, though."

He sighed. He could fold now and let her win or take her bet and probably lose anyway – he didn't have anything except for the pair of kings the community cards afforded him and, unless Kate was bluffing, her reaction to the turn probably meant she either had a full house or a four of a kind.

"I'll call," Rick announced, deciding the least he could do was go down fighting, and then he placed his cards face up on the mattress.

Kate's smile widened as she laid her cards down for him to see – kings of hearts and clubs.

A four of kind, Castle realized. She _did_ have a good hand.

"Ready to admit defeat, Rick?" The brunette teased him.

"There's still the river. I could still beat you," He retorted, unconvinced.

"A straight flush?" Beckett pointed out, incredulous. "Do you know the odds of you managing that?"

Resignedly, Castle dealt the river – and was stunned to see the card revealed was a nine of spades. Beaming arrogantly, he replied to her rhetorical question, "Apparently, astronomical."

Kate could not believe it; the man got his straight flush.

"Are you ready to admit defeat, Detective?" Rick threw her own words back at her, using a rasping voice.

Beckett watched the man gloating in front of her for a moment and then something flickered in her eyes. "Well, I guess there's nothing I can do but remove my two pieces of clothing, right?"

At first, Rick nodded conceitedly, still enjoying the high caused by his turning the tables on her. But as soon as he saw her hands go to her back and move under her shirt, the crisp cotton fabric rising up and making the entirety of her thighs and even a small part of her waist visible to him, he gulped.

The sight of white panties trimmed with black lace snugging her hips did nothing to lower his heart rate either.

In a move that left Castle completely bewitched, Kate skillfully unhooked the clasp of her bra and moved to pull its straps off her shoulders and down her arms, all without taking her shirt off. His mind fleetingly went back to his teenage years, when a 14 year-old Rick watched entranced as Jennifer Beals removed her bra in a similar manner in _Flashdance_.

That memory held nothing on the real, salacious scene playing out right before his eyes.

As Kate pulled the piece of lingerie from under her shirt, she held the garment up in the air with a sensual smile in her face.

Castle's last intelligible thought for the T-rated portion of the night was "_Oh God, it matches her panties."_

Beckett got off the bed and sauntered closer to Rick's body until she was standing within touching distance of him. Then, she placed the white push-up bra covered with black lace in his hands without saying a word, just pursing her lips lustfully.

"You want me to hold that for you while you take your shirt off?" The words left Rick's mouth even though his mind most likely wasn't even aware it had formulated a question.

With an almost imperceptible head shake, Kate's hands once again moved under her shirt, this time going to her hips, her thumbs hooking in her lace panties.

Castle's breath hitched and the last pint of blood available in his brain immediately rushed south once he realized what she was doing.

The blue dress shirt Kate was wearing only covered about three inches of her thighs in this standing position, so he was granted a clear view of most of the panties' journey down the brunette's long, toned legs. In a move that was almost indecent, she bent over to pick up her cheekies – nearly killing Castle in the process – and then handed the item to him, her lips curving into a suggestive smile before she whispered in his ear, "We've each got a single item of clothing left. Guess that means there's only one more round left until the big finish, huh?"

Upon hearing her words, Rick didn't even try to hold himself back – he instinctively pulled Kate's face to his until their lips connected in a searing, bruising kiss, her body toppling on top his and giving him an opportunity to flip them over and pin her under his weight in bed.

"No more playing," His voice rumbled while he nibbled on her neck, his hands pushing her arms high above her head until he managed to actually hold both of her wrists in place with just one of his hands. His other hand then swiftly undid the buttons on her chemise, and when he managed to get the dress shirt open he brought his lips away from her skin so that he could properly enjoy the sight of her full naked body exposed to him.

"Rick…" She purred, making his name sound lascivious.

The high-pitched noise she let out once he slipped two fingers inside her was downright obscene.

* * *

Castle could not contain the groan that left his lips at the feel of her, so wet, and swollen, and _ready_ for him. For a long, agonizing moment he kept his digits still, the sensation of her around his fingers almost too much for him to bear, but then Kate was arching her body, trying desperately to wriggle her arms out of his grasp and get his fingers to move, and he couldn't deny them this pleasure any longer.

He slowly brought his fingers out of her only to drive them into her again, fast, repeating the movements a few times until he was rhythmically thrusting into her and she was clenching her inner muscles around him, trying to get him even deeper, to get him to plunge into her even harder and faster. He complied – he suddenly realized he probably wouldn't be able to deny her anything she asked for in life – and glided a third finger inside her, pumping urgently, the full force of his body and of his pent-up desire behind his actions.

She raised a leg so that her foot reached his erection, her sole gently massaging his rigid length, the friction sending sudden enough jolts of pleasure through him to get a whimper out of him. Beckett then hooked her toes in the elastic band of his boxers, pulling them down in one swift move and exposing his thick shaft to her, the look in her eyes enough to get his fingers to mess up their pace temporarily. When her tongue darted out to moist her lips, he curled his digits within her and pressed the heel of his palm against her clit, rubbing it relentlessly, and she thought she was going to explode. But then he released her wrists and quickly moved down on her body, bringing his mouth to her clitoris, sucking and licking and lapping on it, all the while still slamming his fingers inside her, and she almost actually passed out.

When Kate came, the sounds of her wails were almost loud enough for Rick to worry about his family hearing them, but not so strident that he thought they should stop what they were doing. While her entire body quivered with the force of her still ongoing orgasm, his fingers and mouth were replaced in her body with his rubber-covered cock – _when did he manage to put on a condom?_ – as he entered her in one swift stroke, her body still clamping around him.

Breathing hard, Rick managed to keep his body motionless for a moment, his eyelids shut as he concentrated on the still new feeling of being inside her. When he opened his eyes, he watched mesmerized as Kate's fingers tightened around the sheets on his bed, her senses clearly in overdrive due to the sensations he was causing in her body. He brushed a lock of hair out of her face as she came to her senses, a dazzling smile taking up residence on her face – and taking his breath away.

"You are beautiful, you know that?" He told her before placing a gentle kiss behind her ear. "I've probably said this a dozen times already, but I wanted to say it again right now."

In the aftermath of her orgasm, Beckett didn't have time to erect her walls again – at this moment, she couldn't even decide if she wanted to – and her vulnerability afforded Rick with the opportunity to see tenderness and affection, among a series of other emotions, shining in her eyes.

Her brain didn't get the chance to filter her words either. "A girl never gets tired of hearing it, Castle," She said, and her smile turned leisured, her torso rising off the bed so that she could place a loving, unhurried kiss on his mouth.

When their lips parted, he rested his forehead against hers and slowly moved inside her. "Good, because I don't think I'd be able to stop saying it."

Kate sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, letting the pleasure she was feeling run over her body.

It was more than just pleasure, though. He made her feel happy. Mischievous even.

"Too bad I can't return the sentiment," She told him impishly, deliberately squeezing her walls around him.

"Oh, wow. You wound me, Kate," Rick replied in mock hurt, hips jerking into her as he leaned down to blow a raspberry on her collarbone.

His actions elicited a laugh out of her. "I can see you're heartbroken," She said in between giggles.

She was _giggling_ while having sex, she realized.

He really _was_ good for her.

"I hope you find me at least cute," Castle was telling her. "And keep in mind men actually hate when women say they're cute."

She found his mouth, biting his lower lip warmly and then giving him a proper, passionate kiss. "You're very handsome," She told him before clawing gently into his butt.

His hips jerked into hers as a result. "What are you trying to do to me?" He questioned, trying to muffle his groan in her neck.

She moved her head to grant him better access to her pulse point, her nails raking up his back and her legs winding around his waist. "I'm trying to get you to fuck me, Rick," She replied raunchily, digging her heels into his ass. "Think you could do that?"

He growled, amazed at the change in her behavior, and shoved into her forcefully. "You're too bossy for your own good, Beckett," He told her, his pounding picking up speed.

"Shut up," She directed through her mewing, and the only reason he didn't completely follow her command was that he didn't manage to keep his grunts of satisfaction at their lovemaking to himself.

As their night of passion became more frenzied, Rick felt the oxygen rapidly leaving his lungs, his breathing coming out in short pants and mixing with the soft moans that escaped Kate's lips. Their fingers laced, mimicking the way their limbs intertwined, and the couple managed to remain that way even as Kate's hips rose off the bed to meet Castle's desperate thrusts, their bodies no longer maintaining a distinct rhythm, following only the cadence of their desire and need for release.

One of her legs went up to his shoulder and this new angle combined with the vigor of his thrusts pushed her over the edge, her body shuddering violently as she clenched around him. Rick, on the other hand, didn't immediately follow her, managing to hold back until the tremors in her body finally subsided so he could resume his strokes in a more measured speed.

She thought he would cause her to spontaneously combust.

It didn't take him long to let go, though. As soon as she moaned "I can't wait until I can actually feel you cum inside me" directly in his ear, all discernible thoughts left his mind and he trembled with the force of his orgasm.

His frantic pounding into her and her oversensitive nerve-endings actually got her to climax again.

* * *

When they both came down from their high, Rick pulled Kate's body into his arms, the brunette surprising herself as she slumped against him willingly, nudging her face into the crook of his neck and placing a soft kiss onto his damp skin.

"We should go clean up," She announced lazily after a few minutes. She felt languid, and blissful, and _sated_.

He kissed the top of her head. "Hmm, in a minute."

"We've already been here for a few minutes, Rick."

"I just want to bask a little longer in this post-coitus ecstasy," The novelist deadpanned.

"You're so sentimental," Beckett teased, even as she snuggled closer to his body.

He tilted her face towards his own so he could kiss her lips. "Don't tell anyone," He whispered conspiratorially as he got out of bed and went into his en-suite bathroom to throw out the used condom and clean up.

She laughed freely, pleased with her decision to come back to his loft and to him. She suddenly recognized she had been doing a lot of that lately – laughing when in his company.

He really _did_ make her happy, despite all of her preconceptions of him.

Castle walked back into the room and took notice of the look of contentment that adorned Kate's face. "What?" He asked with a confused smile.

"Nothing," She shook her head dismissively. "I'm just really happy with you."

"Who's sentimental now?" He smirked, climbing into bed again. Despite trying to act indifferent, her admission filled his heart with more joy he thought existed.

She swatted him on the chest. "I'm serious here," The detective told him, before taking a deep breath. An introductory breath. "When I'm with you I actually believe that maybe the world isn't just a place where bad things happen."

Castle sobered. He had a feeling where this conversation was headed. "Bad things?"

Kate nodded mutely at first. Then, she clarified, "Things like my mother's murder."

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**PS: AC, shower sex had to be postponed again. You know, in favor of plot… but it will come soon! – hihi! See what I did there? ;)**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	18. Chapter 18

_PREVIOUSLY:_

_Castle walked back into the room and took notice of the look of contentment that adorned Kate's face. "What?" He asked with a confused smile._

_"Nothing," She shook her head dismissively. "I'm just really happy with you."_

_"Who's sentimental now?" He smirked, climbing into bed again. Despite trying to act indifferent, her admission filled his heart with more joy he thought existed._

_She swatted him on the chest. "I'm serious here," The detective told him, before taking a deep breath. An introductory breath. "When I'm with you I actually believe that maybe the world isn't just a place where bad things happen."_

_Castle sobered. He had a feeling where this conversation was headed. "Bad things?"_

_Kate nodded mutely at first. Then, she clarified, "Things like my mother's murder."_

* * *

For a moment, Rick just laid in bed, unmoving, watching the brunette across from him intently.

_Kate's mother was murdered?_

_Not an accident – an actual _murder_._

It didn't happen much in his life, but right then, the best-selling novelist was rendered speechless. Castle couldn't find any words – much less _suitable_ words – to address her comment about what happened to her mom.

Luckily, when the silence in the room threatened to become unbearable, Rick found his voice, small as it was. "Your mother was murdered?" He asked, in a repeat of her own words.

_Oh wow, great job there._

_Not._

Beckett watched him from under her half-closed eyelids, green-brownish eyes tainted with emotional pain, as she let out a small, "Yeah." She then tucked her right hand underneath the soft, goose down pillow under her head, getting herself comfortable, and her eyelids flickered wide open when stared right into his eyes and she quietly added, "She, uh… she was stabbed to death."

"What happened?" The writer questioned tentatively, a tender quality to his voice.

Beckett took a deep breath as if to settle her nerves. "A week after New Year's, I was still home for winter break," She started in a soft, almost conversational voice. "My parents and I decided to go out to dinner together before I had to go back to Stanford. It was a Saturday, but my mom had some work stuff to do, so my dad and I went ahead to the restaurant and she was going to meet us there. Only she didn't make it," Her voice broke minutely, but it rang loud to Castle's concerned ears. "We spent about two hours dining in that restaurant but she never showed."

She paused briefly then, and for a moment Castle thought she was trying to collect her thoughts. From the look in her eyes, though, it became clear to him that Beckett remembered all the smallest details of that fateful evening by heart, and that the reason she needed the break was to push down the hurt these memories were stirring up.

Before he could even think of interrupting her monologue, Kate was already talking again, "We went home after dinner, and when we got there, there was a detective waiting for us… Detective Raglan," She provided the name as her eyes flickered away from his, all the saliva available in her mouth going down her esophagus in an attempt to soothe the sudden dryness in her throat. "They had found her body in an alley up in Washington Heights," She said, her eyes shutting closed as she finished in a sickened, broken whisper, "Abandoned in a pile of garbage."

"A mugging?" The words had already left his mouth to form a question before he could even think better of it, curiosity getting the best of him.

"No," She told him with a shake of her head, pained eyes going back to Rick's face but still not focusing on him. "Her money and purse and jewelry were still with her," She justified.

His heart tightened as his mind conjured up images of worse case scenarios. "Was there any sign of, uh…" He trailed off, unable to voice his concerns.

Damn his novelist mind.

Kate looked intently at his face then. "Sexual trauma?" She finished his question as she read the meaning of what he was trying to ask her. He looked so hopeless that she didn't even need him to confirm the question. She was already asserting, "No, there wasn't."

Well, at least there was comfort in that.

Silence reigned in the room again as Rick felt his heart aching for the woman lying here with him, in his bed, but at the same time suddenly years away from him. He reached out and took her free hand in his, hoping this small act could tell her all the things his writer's brain suddenly couldn't come up with. He felt her shifting subtly, and he pulled her into his arms.

"I remember being mad at her for not showing up at the restaurant," She said into his chest. "I just assumed that the reason she hadn't come to meet us was because she'd gotten caught up at work…"

"Kate…" Castle immediately said in a soothing voice, trying to stop her from going down regret lane.

She wasn't fazed, though. "It didn't even cross my mind that something could have happened to her."

"It never does, Kate…" He consoled her, running his hand over her short hair and then dropping a kiss to the crown of her head. Still cradling her in his arms, he asked, "How old were you when it happened?"

"Nineteen."

The vulnerability in her voice and whole demeanor was so blatant that it felt to Castle as if he was holding the actual 19-year old version of Kate in his arms. His heart was shattering as there was nothing he could do to help this extraordinary, broken woman.

"It's still an open case?" He asked her, stupidly. The pain oozing out of her body in devastating waves already told him the answer he didn't want to hear.

"Kinda," She confirmed, the word bitter on her tongue. "They attributed it to gang violence," She explained as she raised her head off his chest and took his hands in hers, before adding with a cynical smile, "Random wayward event." Her eyes fell to their joined hands and then she furrowed her eyebrows, eyes welling up with tears. "Her actual killer was never caught, though."

He pulled her body into his again then, tucking her head under his chin in an attempt to comfort her. "I'm sorry," Rick finally said, after a while. "I know it doesn't mean much – anything, actually – but…"

"Thank you," She interrupted him, and he could hear the sincerity in her muffled voice. She got her head off his chest and looked up to his face, a single track of tears visible on her left cheek.

He smiled lovingly at her, running his thumb over her cheek to dry it and then kissing her forehead affectionately. "You are truly remarkable, Kate Beckett."

Kate was taken aback by the kindheartedness and empathy in Castle's eyes. His raw affection for her provided her with unexpected strength, and she found herself wanting to share more about her mother's death that she had buried in her mind and heart for so long.

What should she say, though? How should she go about this?

Well… rip off the band-aid.

_Just do it._

"At her funeral…" She started, determined to tell him everything; as soon as the words had left her mouth, though, she hesitated, not knowing exactly what she wanted to share.

Frustrated, she closed her eyes and shut the world out.

Almost a full minute of silence went by, until Kate felt Rick's left hand on her cheek in encouragement.

"At her funeral…?" He gently prodded. He didn't know what she wanted to say, but he could tell she needed to say it.

And he wanted to hear it.

She opened her eyes to stare at his compassionate blue irises and tried again. "At her funeral," She blinked slowly, taking a deep sigh before resuming, "I didn't deal with the fact that my mother had been killed very well. Actually, I was a wreck," She admitted. "My mom's friends and colleagues, even our relatives came up to me and tried to comfort me, but I… I didn't even acknowledge them. All I did then was cry and lash out." She chuckled, self-deprecatingly. "I'm pretty sure everyone thought I was a brat."

"I'm pretty sure everyone understood that you were mourning in your own way," She heard Rick's voice tell her.

Green eyes peered at the man in front of her and encountered only kindness and, oddly enough, admiration. It warmed her heart in a way Kate had never felt before.

"We had a reception at our place afterwards," The brunette continued her account, a little more decisively. "I had calmed down enough to resign myself to the fact that my mother was gone, that from them on it was going to be just my dad and I, but I was still… angry, I guess. And miserable." She took a moment to consider if she had expressed herself appropriately and, convinced that the words had been close enough, she moved on to explain. "I was angry that for whatever idiotic reason a jackass had killed my mother," She acknowledged, voice laced with annoyance. But then she grew calmer and dejectedly finished, "And I was miserable that my mother was never coming back again."

Her last words were muffled in his neck but Rick still managed to make out what she had said. He pulled her away from him to stare into her eyes, wanting to see what exactly was going on in her mind – if she would still allow him to look into her eyes and see what was inside her. He managed to identify a sense of mourning and burden in there, and it made him want to protect her from all the bad in the world.

"My dad wasn't really doing any better," She carried on, interrupting Castle's inner musings and shifting attention in her story, "but he was being so strong for me. He was really attentive and wanted to make sure I didn't feel any more depressed than I already was, so at some point during the reception he actually took my hand and said, 'Let's get the hell out of here, Katie'," She recalled, a soft smile appearing on her lips. "So we did. We left everyone in our apartment and ended up in Coney Island, walking up and down the beach and just enjoying ourselves."

Even though a bit of angst still tainted her eyes, Rick could mostly see fondness there at the memory. The easy grin on her lips even had him ignoring the tragic events under discussion, and he found himself with a smile of his own, saying, "That sounds nice." Immediately after the words had been spoken, he tried to take them back, afraid they would cause her grief, "I mean –"

Kate placed her right hand on the warm, broad expanse of his chest, directly over his heart. "That day is both a bad memory and a good memory, Rick," She told him fondly, hoping to smother his uneasiness. "I learned then that, even on the worst days, there's a possibility for joy."

His smile turned wider and affection shone in his eyes. "That's very poetic."

She could feel the unmistakable tenderness of the moment and it warmed her heart even more. Playfully, she retorted, "Want to use it in one of your books?"

His lips parted in a silent, beaming laugh. "Maybe. We'll discuss this later… don't want you suing me for writer's credit." He joked, chastely touching her lips with his own.

Without even realizing what she was doing, Kate turned herself around in bed and settled her back against his chest, the smile on her face growing wider than she thought possible when his strong, caring arms easily went around her frame to pull her even closer to his body, attaining a perfect cuddling position.

"So, all of this is why you're a cop today," Castle murmured into her ear, an understanding tone in his voice as he nuzzled her earlobe. "You want to find the person who killed her."

Feeling safe and content in Rick's arms, Beckett mused about the words he had just spoken. He assumed she was a homicide detective because she wanted to solve her mother's case and, at one point in her life, that had been accurate. She had in fact joined the NYPD in hopes of finding her mother's killer, but that's not why she was still there. After all the time she had spent in therapy, Kate had realized she had to leave it all behind her or she would go down the rabbit hole and never come out of it again.

"No, that's why I _became_ a cop," The brunette tried to explain while she tenderly ran her fingers over both of Rick's forearms. He was really putting in the effort to get to know her, and she wanted to be as forthcoming as she could manage at this time. "My first three years on the force, every off-duty moment was spent looking for something someone might have missed in my mother's case. Investigating her case consumed me, and it took me years of therapy to realize that, if I didn't let it go, it was going to destroy me." She sighed, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. It still hurt that she had stopped looking into her mother's case. It felt as if she had failed her mother.

Kate prayed Rick didn't notice the fresh tears in her eyes then.

Of course Castle noticed, though. His hold on her body strengthened, and he watched her mutely for a moment before speaking again, gently, "Kate…"

The affection in his voice fueled her and boosted her confidence. Taking his left hand in hers, she told him, "I'm still a cop today because I want to bring to the victims' families the closure I didn't get." She turned her face to peer at his sideways. "I witnessed firsthand how living through a tragedy can almost destroy someone's life, and I promised myself I'd do my best to help bring justice to those who go through the same thing I did."

Her voice was strong, but the tears rolling down her cheek betrayed her anyway.

Castle was silently watching her, trying to decipher the meaning behind her words. Of course he could tell she was referring to what she had just told him she went through, but there was definitely more to her words than what she had told him so far. "What happened to you, Kate?" He pushed as kindly as he could manage, genuinely interested in what had contributed to form the woman she was today.

The gentleness in his voice broke her, and the tears ran freely then down Kate's cheek. She waited a moment and then stubbornly wiped them off her face, the waterfall threatening to resume again once the brunette felt Rick's comforting touch on her shoulder. Deciding she could do this, she told him, "After my mom passed away, I felt lost. My dad was completely focused on taking care of me then – spending as much time as he could with me, talking to me, telling me stories, giving me space when I needed it… after a few conversations with him, I ended up deciding not to go back to Stanford that semester, and just… clear my head, you know? Experiment new things, new places. Find myself again."

Her words dawned on him, and Castle remembered their conversation when they had dinner at her place. "That's when you went to Kiev."

"That's when I went to Kiev," Beckett said with a nod, confirming his inference.

Still, Castle couldn't understand how that had anything to do with what she'd told him about tragedies.

Kate must have sensed his confusion, and she gently kissed his knuckles. He could feel that the gesture meant she was asking him for patience, so he obliged.

Speaking up again, she picked up where she had left off, "I spent a semester abroad, trying to get away from everything that had happened. Trying to figure out who I was…" She sighed and commented, more to herself than to him, "One day I was a teen in college, and then the next I was this adult whose life was thrown upside down."

He nodded, sympathetically. His curious novelist mind still came to life and he couldn't help but probe for more information. So, he questioned, "Did it help? Going away?"

"It helped _me_," She told him immediately, as if she had expected the question already. At first, she sounded even more cryptic than before. But then she carried on, "While I was in Ukraine, my father was still in New York, still living in the same house, working the same job. Same life, only without his wife. Everything reminded him of the fact that the person whom he loved unconditionally had been taken from him. He was doing the best he could to accept my mom's death himself, but it was harder on him to lose the love of his life than it was on me to lose a parent," She clarified, before pondering, "Well, maybe not _harder_… but a different kind of pain, at least."

The wheels in Castle's brain instantly started turning as he contemplated her statement. A death was always a death, but in some twisted way he could see how someone could deal better with the idea of losing a parent – especially if the other parent was still a part of one's life – than with the idea of losing the one person you were in love with and chose to spend the rest of your life with. In some perverse way – and he hated himself for even thinking about this – the death of a parent was eventually expected. On the other hand, Castle didn't think anyone actually prepared themselves to let go of a soul mate.

"On top of it all," Kate resumed talking, effectively putting an end to Castle's cruel ruminations, "I was away too. I guess it was really hard for him, being alone when grief resurfaced…" She looked away from Castle, ashamed. "So, going to Kiev helped me at first, but it didn't help my father."

The angst in her eyes combined with the meaning of her words suddenly made sense to Castle, and the writer finally understood what she had been saying about tragedy sometimes destroying people's lives.

Her mother's death had been difficult on Kate, but it had been even worse for her father.

"How did he cope with it?" Castle asked, trying his best to participate in this conversation and hoping he could make her see that he was supportive of her.

"He started drinking," The brunette admitted. "I didn't notice while I was away, of course, but I sure noticed it when I came back home."

Rick's swiftly picked up on the embarrassment Kate apparently felt at being away from her father when his alcoholism started. Before he could say anything about it, though, she had already started speaking again.

"Anyway… that's water under the bridge." She told him with a soft, proud smile. "He's sober now. Almost five years."

Castle smiled proudly too, as if he actually had been a part of Kate's father's struggle against the bottle. But he hadn't been part of her life then, and he needed to know about that too. "How did he do it?"

"With a lot of ups and downs – mostly downs. Eventually, he drank himself into an acute alcohol poisoning," She confided, swallowing hard at the memory. "He was lucky I found him in his apartment and drove him to the hospital. Doctors said he most likely wouldn't have survived otherwise."

Rick looked at Beckett in awe. This exceptional woman actually saved – quite literally – her father's life.

"That was around Christmas time in 2003," She told him. "Once he left the hospital, I told him I didn't want to lose another parent and he vouched to stick to his AA meetings and never touch alcohol again." Her smile was beaming when she announced, "He's kept his promise to me ever since."

Castle's grin was heartfelt too. "When do you think I could meet him?" The words were out of his mouth before he could do anything to stop himself.

Kate was astonished, to say the least. "You want to meet my father?"

"Yeah," He confirmed, shrugging his shoulders. The cat was out of the bag anyway, and he didn't actually regret asking her about it. "He sounds like an interesting, remarkable man," He rationalized, before kissing her gently on the lips. "Almost as much as his daughter."

Kate smiled lovingly at Rick, truly amazed at him. It warmed her heart that he wanted to meet her dad, there was no doubt about it; but, at the same time, she wasn't sure she was ready to have them meet at this point. "We'll see, Castle," She relented softly. "But for now I guess we should get some sleep," She said as she scrambled in bed to get her phone where she had set it on his nightstand when they had started playing strip poker. "I have to work in a few hours and it's nearly… 4 am?!" She exclaimed, surprised, once she noticed the time in the digital clock in her phone. "I really do need to get some sleep."

"Wow," Castle agreed, also unaware of the time up to that moment. "For what time should I set the alarm?" He asked her, already moving to set his alarm clock.

"I have it for six, thank you."

"Six?!"

Kate thought his comment sounded dangerously close to a whine.

"Yeah…!" She dragged the word out, clearly mocking the tone he'd used right before. "I still have to go home before I get to the precinct at eight, Castle. Can't show up in yesterday's clothes."

"But what about breakfast?!"

There was definitely no mistaking it this time. He _was_ whining.

"I'll eat something at the station," She told him patiently.

"But you owe me a plate of eggs and bacon!"

_Whiner!_

"I'll pay you next time," She assured him with a smirk.

"Hmmm… next time," He murmured with a smile on his face and a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

Kate rolled her eyes at him, but he was quick to drop a kiss to her lips.

"G'night, Kate," He told her, opening his arms in invitation.

She smiled and turned off the lamp before settling back into him. "Good night, Rick."

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**A/N: I really wanted to fit shower sex into this chapter, but alas... I'm such a sucker for plot at times.**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: This chapter is also rated M for sexual content. Beware of break lines if you want to avoid this type of scene.**_

_**Thank you so very much to supermandy77 for all the help with this chapter. And for Tree23 ( FictionalAnna) for all the continuous support, even as she enjoys her vacation in LA and rubs in our faces that she's visiting all Castle sets ;)**_

_**Reviews are much appreciated!**_

* * *

_PREVIOUSLY:_

_"For what time should I set the alarm?" He asked her, already moving to set his alarm clock._

_"I have it for six, thank you."_

_"Six?!"_

_Kate thought his comment sounded dangerously close to a whine._

_"Yeah…!" She dragged the word out, clearly mocking the tone he'd used right before. "I still have to go home before I get to the precinct at eight, Castle. Can't show up in yesterday's clothes."_

_"But what about breakfast?!"_

_There was definitely no mistaking it this time. He was whining._

_"I'll eat something at the station," She told him patiently._

_"But you owe me a plate of eggs and bacon!"_

_Whiner!_

_"I'll pay you next time," She assured him with a smirk._

_"Hmmm… next time," He murmured with a smile on his face and a suggestive wiggle of his brows._

_Kate rolled her eyes at him, but he was quick to drop a kiss to her lips._

_"G'night, Kate," He told her, opening his arms in invitation._

_She smiled and turned off the lamp before settling back into him. "Good night, Rick."_

* * *

The sharp sound coming from her phone instantly brought Beckett out of slumber. It felt like she had _just _managed to drift off to sleep – well, it had in fact been just a couple of hours since she'd closed her eyes – and now it was time to wake up already.

She would have felt worse about it if it weren't for the sweet, gentle nuzzling in the back of her neck as she stretched to turn off the alarm.

"Don't get up yet. Stay in bed," Castle's muffled, sleepy voice asked of her.

Smiling contently, the brunette rolled over to place soft kisses on each of the writer's closed eyelids. "I have to go to work, Rick."

"No, you don't," he told her, eyes till shut. "You can go in late, you can call in sick… you can even resign, I don't care. Just don't go yet."

Amused, she smirked. "Really, Castle, you want me to quit my job?"

"Uh-hum," he muttered, sounding as if still deep in sleep. "I have money, I can keep you."

Narrowing her eyes, she impishly twisted his left ear to get him to open his eyes.

"Aaahhhhh!" His eyelids flew open.

"Do I look like a kept woman to you?" She sulked.

"Wha– no!" He rubbed his abused ear. "You do not look like a kept woman. I was merely presenting you with a few options… God, did you really have to pull off my ear just for that?"

"You can always use your money for reconstructive surgery," she deadpanned, getting out of bed.

"Ha-ha," he murmured unamused as Kate pulled on his dress shirt, which was lying around on the floor, in an attempt to cover her body modestly.

As she did up the buttons on the shirt, she asked, "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"Of course you can. Duh," He said, setting up against the headboard to get a better look at her. "You want to take a shower before you go?"

"I, uh… actually, I thought I'd just take a shower once I got home."

"Nonsense," he said dismissively as he got out of bed. He didn't miss her appraisal of his naked body while he made his way to her. "You can just shower here. Come on," he planted a chaste, good morning kiss to her lips and then took her hand, leading her towards his en-suite bathroom, "let's set things up for you."

* * *

Castle left Kate in his bathroom and, after quickly putting on a pair of pants and a t-shirt, quietly made his way up to the guest room. Figuring she'd prefer to walk around in a more feminine scent than that of his soap and shampoo (though he had to admit that it was undeniably alluring to think of her scent mixed with his), he picked up a brand new bar of some fancy Greek soap, the extra bottles of Bed Head products they had in store for visiting guests and a few other toiletries and immediately returned to his room. With a soft knock at the bathroom door – more to indicate that he was coming in than to ask for permission –, he found the brunette about to step in the oversized shower stall.

"There you go." He handed the bath products over to her, his eyes roaming over her naked body.

She thanked with a smile and then slipped under the shower head, water suddenly streaming down her skin.

The sight of Kate's wet, nude form through the frameless glass shower door left the writer completely mesmerized. He tried his best not to stare – he even attempted to keep his gaze on her clothes and purse lying on top of one of the bathroom's larger counters –, but his eyes returned to her glorious body of their own volition.

Beckett noticed him watching her entranced and smiled to herself. She was becoming familiar with that look. That was his "I-can't-believe-you're-so-gorgeous-I-want-you" look.

She might risk running a little late, but alas…

"Are you going to join me?" She asked as she unwrapped the soap bar, the aroma of jasmine and mint tea taking over the hot, humid air in the room.

It took him a second to absorb her words, but as soon as he did, he nodded profusely and hurriedly stripped off his clothes to join her.

* * *

The brunette greeted Castle with a wet, splashy kiss, her arms going around his shoulders to bring him under water with her. "This shower is gigantic," she commented as she turned away from him to reach for his shampoo bottle.

"I like to have room to move around."

"You can fit at least ten people in here, Rick," she told him with a raised eyebrow, squeezing a small amount of shampoo out of the bottle and onto her hand.

"Why, Detective Beckett, are you planning on having other people joining in on this party?" He told him with a mischievous smirk, his hands going to her waist and his lips finding her shoulder blade.

Kate couldn't help the small whimper that left her lips.

"Move back," she instructed then, hands stopping in mid-air.

He halted his ministrations and looked at her funny.

"Your head," she explained. "Lay it back a little."

Even if a little weary, Castle complied with her request, tilting his head back and away from the water spray. She ran her hands through his hair, foam gathering up in his scalp as she washed his short mane.

Closing his eyes, he let out a soft hum of satisfaction. "Are you going to bathe me?" He asked, his voice tinged with arousal as his hands idly caressed her sides.

"I just felt like washing your hair," she told him with a shrug, trying to resist the urge to kiss the exposed skin over his throat. In a fit of unexpected honesty, she added, "You have very soft hair. I like it."

Rick's eyelids fluttered open at that, his eyes searching hers even while Kate held his head back in place so that she could finish washing his hair. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed his lust and, unable to resist this time, the brunette traced the column of his neck with her lips.

The grunt he let out reverberated onto her lips, causing a surge of heat to travel down her body.

The moment her hands moved away from his hair, Rick brought his head back under the warm water spray and claimed her lips with his. Beads of foam continually washed away down the back of his head and shoulders while their wet, passionate kissing grew even more feverish.

Breaking away when the need for air became unbearable, Castle kept one of his hands on Kate's back and, with the other, he reached for the shampoo bottle behind her.

"Are you going to do my hair too?" She asked, turning herself around in his arm and grinding her hips into his groin.

His reaction to the feel of her body undulating against him was instant. He dropped the shampoo bottle and got both of his arms around her torso, one hand snaking up to fondle each of her breasts alternately as the other moved lower on her body to tease her sex with his fingertips, both hands pressing her into his body as he rubbed himself against her from behind.

Kate let out a soft, guttural moan.

There was nothing she could do but let her hands fall against the marble shower wall to support her weight, her entire body shaky and weak and trembling with need. Everything became a blur to her then, and she couldn't help the twitch of her hips, massaging him, bringing him closer, and harder, and impossibly closer, until all he could do was to enter her in a single, firm stroke that left her mewling.

He had to cover her lips with one of his hands in order to avoid drawing attention to them.

Soon after he was moving into her, and it was all messy, and hard, and fast, and too much for them. They didn't last as much as they hoped for, and not even ten minutes later they were both crying out in ecstasy, her sounds still muffled by his hand and his groans hidden into her neck. Their burning bodies remained plastered together as they desperately tried to regain their breaths, water cascading over them, and it took them all the strength in the world to move from this position.

* * *

Kate was the one to step out of the shower first. Grabbing the fluffy tower he had set aside for her as soon as the cool air hit her body, she dried herself off and then put on her underwear, deciding to optimize her alone time outside the stall. As her eyes wandered around the expansive bathroom, she brushed her teeth with his electric toothbrush (using the extra soft head he had also thoughtfully set aside for her) and then applied her makeup.

By the time Castle was out of the shower, she was already pulling on her pants.

"What time is it?" he asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist, towel secured on his hips and body mostly dried.

"A little before seven," she told him with a smile as she picked up her bag and pulled out a long silver necklace.

Once she slipped the chain over her head, Rick swiftly noticed the reflection of the silver ring with a blue sapphire dangling from the necklace in the mirror. "Was it your mother's?" he asked softly, placing a gentle kiss to her shoulder. "The ring?"

"Yeah," she replied, fondness lacing her voice. "It's a family heirloom. I wear it as a symbol of the life that I lost."

His arms squeezed her a little tighter in support. "What was her name?"

She smiled warmly. "Johanna."

"Johanna…" Castle tested the word on his lips. "That's a beautiful name. Strong."

"It fit her."

"I imagine so, considering she's your mother."

Kate's smile grew wider at the author's tender words, and she reached out to place a kiss on his neck without turning around to face him. "Thank you," she told Rick, staring into his eyes through their reflection in the mirror.

He wanted to pull her into his chest, but refrained. "Thank _you_ for telling me this."

As a warm grin took up residence in on both of their faces, Kate reached for her bag again – this time pulling out a men's watch. "This belonged to my father – Jim," she told Castle, voice laced with pride. "This one I wear for the life that I saved."

Unable to resist his instincts this time, Castle turned her around to face him and took her face in his hands. "You amaze me, Kate," he told her before placing a reverent kiss on her lips and then touching his forehead to hers. "The more I learn about you, the more in awe of you I become."

She could see in his eyes that each word out of his mouth was the absolute truth. But what surprised Beckett the most was that, though his eyes, she could see his emotions ran even deeper than his voice had shown.

It hit her that, most likely, he had truly meant what he said to her when he asked her out. He wanted something real.

Rick was getting serious about her.

"Dad?"

They both heard Alexis's faint voice flowing through the door and looked at each other with surprised faces for a moment.

"Oh my God," Kate whispered, panicked, all thoughts of Castle's feelings for her suddenly vanished.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine," Castle whispered back confidently.

Somehow his self-assuredness did nothing to calm Beckett's nerves.

Raising his voice to address his daughter, Rick let out, "Yeah, Pumpkin?"

The pair could hear the sound of the bedroom door opening and, after a moment, Alexis's footsteps towards the bathroom door. Then her voice, a little clearer, came through again. "I didn't know you were in here, sorry. I just wanted to ask you what you wanted for breakfast. I was thinking about making either pancakes or waffles."

"Uh…" he looked at Beckett questioningly.

Widening her eyes in exasperation, she murmured desperately, "I'm not staying, Castle, I don't care!"

Oh. _Right_.

"Dad?" came Alexis's voice again.

"Oh my God," Kate gritted out. "Just answer the girl before I kill you!"

Startled, Rick immediately shouted, "Pancakes sound great, Sweetie!"

"Okay," the teen acknowledged from outside, oblivious to the tension in the bathroom. After a small beat, she added, "Were you in the shower or something?"

"I was, yeah! I just felt like a needed a little pick me up this morning. You know, all the drinking last night got me a little sluggish and…" While he was rambling, Kate frantically motioned for him to stop talking. Not knowing what to do, he finished, "I'll be right out, Pumpkin."

"Okay…" Alexis said again, sounding a little confused. "I'll get a start on breakfast."

As soon as they heard the bedroom door close, Kate let out a relieved sigh and then angrily poked her index finger at Castle's bare chest.

"Ouch! That's the second time this morning you've assault me!" he complained, rubbing his chest.

"What the hell, Rick?!" she hissed.

"What?!"

"'What'? We almost got caught by your teenage daughter, that's 'what'!"

"Okay, one – it wasn't my fault. And, two – what's the big deal?"

"The big deal?" She looked at him, incredulous. "Rick, I'm not ready to step out of your bathroom by your side to face your daughter in the world's most awkward walk of shame ever!"

"You think this would be the world's most awkward walk of shame ever?" he snickered. "Are you kidding? This one time, I had –"

She glared at him and cut him off, "Are you seriously going to bring up your past sexual experiences right now?"

Realizing his mistake, he closed his mouth and then, scolded, only muttered, "Right."

Huffing, she rolled her eyes as she turned away from him and pulled on her dress shirt.

"Listen," he started tentatively as she finished getting dressed, "Let's just go out there and talk to her. Things will be fine."

She turned to face him immediately. "Go out there? I'm not going out there now!"

Castle watched her silently for a few seconds before saying quietly, "What's going on, Kate? Last night, you came back and it seemed to me you were willing to do this." He hoped he didn't sound too critical, but he still wanted her to see that he needed some explanation from her.

"Well, last night I thought I'd have a chance to prepare myself for this before your family woke up!" She told him, yet she could see he was still having a hard time coming to terms with her reaction. "I'm sorry, Rick. I can't do this now. I'm not ready to face your family in this Twilight Zone version of a morning after. Especially if it means Alexis will realize that the reason there's a woman stepping out of your previously unoccupied bedroom is that the two of us were locked together in the bathroom having shower sex!" she finished, embarrassed, and then picked up her purse and returned to the bedroom.

Walking out of the bathroom still clad only in a towel, Rick tried to reason with her, "Technically, she didn't interrupt our shower sex."

Fishing her boots from under his bed, she hissed again, "Technically, I don't care!"

"Richard?"

At the sound of the voice coming from outside, Beckett widened her eyes and whispered anxiously, "Oh my God, Martha's up too?" She put her head in her hands. "This just gets worse and worse…"

"I'll be out in a minute, Mother!" Castle called out, a little frantically.

"That's fine, Dear." came his mother's voice again. "Alexis and I will be waiting for you in the kitchen. We want to hear all about your night."

"My night?!" This time, Rick was really panicked.

"Yes, Richard. Your gaming night with your detective friends after I retired to my room…"

"Right," he breathed relieved. "Sure, I'll just finish getting dressed and I'll be right out."

The two people inside the bedroom heard Martha's footsteps towards the kitchen and tried to calm themselves down.

Turning back to face the brunette, he pulled her into his arms. "Calm down, Kate. I'll go out there and fix this."

"Fix this?"

"Yeah. I'll distract them or something until you can get out of the room without attracting attention to yourself."

She pushed herself away from his torso and looked up into his eyes. "How long will that take, Castle? I have to be at the precinct by eight."

Raising his eyebrows at her, he retorted sarcastically, "Well, I'm sorry. Am I not being helpful enough? Because you're more than welcome to come out there with me right now."

She realized how crazy she must have sounded and sighed. "I'm sorry." She took a deep, calming breath. "I'm really sorry. I'm just not…"

"Ready," he finished, a little dejectedly. "Yeah, I get it."

"Look." She took his hand and pulled him closer to her. "This really just took me by surprise. It's not about hiding this from them, okay? It's just about not wanting this scenario to be how they find out that..." she trailed off.

"That…?" he pushed.

"That we're involved."

His smile was so filled with happiness that it brought the same reaction out of her.

He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her caringly, lovingly, gently stroking her hair as she ran her hands over his lower back, the entire embrace familiar and yet oddly unlike their past displays of affection.

Once their lips parted, it was obvious that Castle's smile went from happy to smug. "So, you're admitting we're in a relationship, huh?"

Teasing him, she retorted, "Well, we _are_ in some sort of a relationship. I never said we were exclusive, though." At his puppy dog look, she rolled her eyes. "I don't know how you go from ladies' man to Mr. Darcy in a blink of an eye," she joked.

There was nothing humorous about the way he stared into her eyes and answered, "Truthfully."

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	20. Chapter 20

_**A/N: My birthday was this past weekend (Liv Wilder's also! Go wish her a happy belated birthday!), so I'm sorry I didn't get to update sooner. But, with the help of my faithful friends Tree23 and supermandy77, I'm here now!**_

_**While we're at this, let me just share these few milestones with you: over 100 favorites, 340 followers and 60,000 views. I'm pretty sure these are pathetic numbers for our greatest authors, but to me? For my first story? This is amazing. Thank you! So to all of you, especially my **__**wonderful, silent readers – could you leave me a few words? Share your thoughts, give me suggestions… **__**give me a gift in form of a review? ;)**_

_**By the way, I always forget to do this since I usually reply individually to each of you, but I'd like to thank all reviewers who can't accept PMs (guests or otherwise) for taking the time to tell me what you think. These messages keep me going and help improve this fanfic.**_

* * *

_PREVIOUSLY:_

_"Look." She took his hand and pulled him closer to her. "This really just took me by surprise. It's not about hiding this from them, okay? It's just about not wanting this scenario to be how they find out that..." she trailed off._

_"That…?" he pushed._

_"That we're involved."_

_His smile was so filled with happiness that it brought the same reaction out of her._

_He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her caringly, lovingly, gently stroking her hair as she ran her hands over his lower back, the entire embrace familiar and yet oddly unlike their past displays of affection._

_Once their lips parted, it was obvious that Castle's smile went from happy to smug. "So, you're admitting we're in a relationship, huh?"_

_Teasing him, she retorted, "Well, we __are__ in some sort of a relationship. I never said we were exclusive, though." At his puppy dog look, she rolled her eyes. "I don't know how you go from ladies' man to Mr. Darcy in a blink of an eye," she joked._

_There was nothing humorous about the way he stared into her eyes and answered, "Truthfully."_

* * *

Beckett's stroll was a bit hurried as she moved past the yellow tape and made her way through the crime scene in Tompkins Square Park.

She was late.

Well, not actually _late_, but it was almost 8:30 and Esposito had already called her asking about her whereabouts. A fair question, since the call from dispatch informing her about the dead body found in the park's outdoor mini pool had come almost an hour before – precisely at the moment she had managed to step out of Castle's loft unnoticed by his family, thanks to a bit of luck and a lot of sneaking.

Still relieved at her clean exit earlier in the morning, Beckett sighed contently and sped up her pace. The last thing she wanted was to face the boys cracking jokes about her oversleeping if she took another minute to get to the crime scene, even though oversleeping was so _not_ the reason for her tardiness.

She could already spot Lanie, waist-deep in water as she examined the floating cadaver, when her phone rang. "Beckett," she answered without checking the caller ID, but also without missing a stride.

"You're responsible, right?"

The detective recognized his voice immediately, although the question made no sense to her. "Castle," she started in a low voice as she came closer to the pool, "what's going on?"

"This morning, in the shower –"

"Rick!" She immediately hissed, interrupting him. _Is he calling me for phone sex? Seriously?_

Only Castle interrupted her back. "I didn't wear a condom."

_Oh_.

That was _not_ what she had been expecting.

His voice floated through her phone again as he started justifying his actions, "We got so caught up in the moment, and…"

"Rick." She quietly interjected as she stopped a few steps away from the dead body, trying to get his attention and, at the same time, not tip Lanie off on her conversation. "I know, I was there too. It's not…" she stopped talking once she made the connection between his anxiety over not wearing a condom and his first question once she had answered the phone. Turning her back to the M.E., she marched away from the mini pool again before resuming, in a very quiet voice, "Is this you asking me if I'm on the pill?"

"Yes." Castle admitted, a little reticent. "I think maybe we should talk about these things, don't you?"

Self-consciously, Kate looked over her shoulder to glance at Lanie, who was still checking on the dead body, before addressing Rick's question. "Look, I know that you're worried and maybe we should talk about these things..." she said, running her free hand through her hair before lowering her voice even more to continue, "It's just… can we do this some other time? You can rest assured that you're safe – I'm on the pill, and I'm not some crazy bimbo fan trying to have your baby –"

Immediately, the writer cut in, "I never meant to question your –"

Kate didn't even let him finish. "I know, I know. I didn't mean to imply you did. I just…" she sighed, trying to gather her thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Kate," she heard the voice coming through her phone.

"No. Don't be, Rick," she tried to reassure him, feeling a bit more confident about this matter. "You were right to bring this up." Only this was so not the time or the place for this. "But maybe we could this discuss this later? I just got to a crime scene and I should really go now."

"Of course, yeah." After a few seconds, he tentatively intoned, "Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad you spent the night."

Beckett couldn't help but smile at his tender words. Before she had a chance to reply, though, she heard the click on the line.

He had hung up.

Sighing fondly, she spoke into the dead phone anyway. "Me too."

* * *

Once Beckett made her way back to the pool and to Lanie, she was immediately welcomed by Esposito and Ryan's curious stares.

"You're late," the Latino pointed out.

The brunette pinned him with one of her "drop it" glares.

Espo purposefully didn't take the hint, though. "And she's secretive," he commented to his partner.

"More than usual," Ryan was quick to add.

Okay, so they weren't dropping anything.

"I overslept," Beckett lied. _Better this than the alternative._

"Big night?" Esposito was quick to question, the implication clear in his tone.

"You were there," the brunette told them, crossing her arms in front of her chest as if daring both the boys to say anything else.

Lanie, with her eyebrows raised at her friend's words, finally butted in, "Okay, clearly I'm missing something and I _hate _missing things. What's going on here?"

Kate parted her lips but the words took a while longer to leave her mouth as she decided on how she would tell her friend about their evening at Rick Castle's loft. "Nothing, really. Castle invited the Captain, the boys and I to his place last night for poker," she said as nonchalantly as she could.

Though by the wide eyes in Lanie's face, clearly not nonchalantly enough.

"Castle? As in millionaire best-selling novelist – not to mention cutie – Richard Castle?" the M.E. asked loudly.

While Ryan smirked and Esposito scowled, Beckett replied, rolling her eyes, "Yes, Lanie. Rick Castle."

"Girl, you've been holding out on me! How come I hadn't heard a word about you all getting invited to that man's apartment for poker night?"

"It's more of a loft, actually," Ryan mused out loud.

"A two-story loft," Espo piped in.

"You two think that's the part I'm interested in?" Lanie berated them, before casting an interrogating stare at Kate's direction. "I'm still waiting, Kate Beckett."

"There's nothing to tell," Beckett tried to deflect, feeling tense. "He showed up at the precinct last week asking to join in on a case – which he didn't," she answered before Lanie had the chance to get the words out to form the question, "and he ended up inviting us and the Captain to a poker night. That's it."

But the M.E. was letting this go that easily. "You expect me to believe that's all there is to it?"

"It is, Lanie!"

"Technically, we also stayed to play some Xbox," Ryan interjected.

Lanie turned to her friend, eyebrows raised again. "Xbox?"

"Well, these guys were very excited about it and it got me curious!" Kate tried to defend herself. "We all left around two."

"Assuming she really did leave," Esposito remarked, throwing Beckett under the bus.

"Assuming?" Lanie asked, mouth already open to form another question.

"For your information, I left right after you guys," the brunette immediately lied through her teeth. At her friends' disbelieving looks, she rolled her eyes, put on her best professional face and nodded at the lifeless body floating face down in the three-feet deep mini pool. "Speaking of assumptions, I'm assuming our vic didn't drown here, at least not without some help."

Lanie recognized that this was Kate's way of saying that their conversation about Castle was over. "Don't think this is over, Kate," the M.E. warned anyway, pointing a threatening finger at her friend before resignedly relaying her preliminary findings on the cadaver to the detectives.

As she listened to her friend recount her medical opinion on what had happened to their victim, finally dropping the personal interrogation, Kate managed to breathe again.

* * *

Alone at home after Alexis had left for school and Martha for an audition, Castle sat in his office, feet propped up on his desk, typing away his personal morning adventures into what he decided would be Storm's last novel. Shower sex and 'Operation Sneak Out' had been too incredible to be left out of the annals of history.

Well, fictional history.

As he'd sat down to write, Rick had briefly entertained the idea of Derrick Storm falling into bed with "Detective [KB]" (he really needed a name for her character, _stat_) after one night of too many drinks over Clara Strike's untimely death. After his phone call with Kate, though, the idea had been squashed – Castle had felt as if the NYPD detective was special enough to have a story of her own.

So, the writer had set his mind on having Storm share with [KB] one of his fonder memories of his time with Strike. A story about how on a particular Sunday morning in February, after an entire night of lovemaking, Derrick had had to sneak out of Clara's resort hotel room in Varadero because their target – an international arms dealer Clara had managed to charm the night before – had come looking for her unexpectedly. Castle chuckled as he described in the novel how Clara had lured the man out to the balcony for breakfast, affording Derrick the opportunity to secretly leave the room, much as it had happened earlier in the morning with Kate.

Well, except in Derrick's version, he had no mother and daughter complaining about having to endure the cold mid-November weather in Manhattan as they had breakfast outdoors.

Still, Castle smiled.

Mid-November or not, he had managed to convince his family to have breakfast in their oversized terrace anyway, granting Kate enough time to slip out of the apartment undetected.

All in all, 'Operation Sneak Out' had been a stealthy success in Castle's opinion.

* * *

Beckett spent the rest of her Wednesday running leads with the boys, trying to build up a case on the latest murder victim with the little they had found out so far. No matter how tired she felt from the very physical – and pleasant – nature of her almost all-nighter, Kate was first and foremost committed to her job.

The explanation she had given Castle during their conversation the night before had been completely true – her job meant bringing justice and closure to victims and their families, and being able to achieve that was the main reason she was a homicide detective. So no matter what was going on in her private life, she needed to dedicate her full attention to the case at hand.

She had been so focused on the murder investigation throughout the day that it wasn't until close to 11 pm that she remembered that at some point earlier in the evening Castle had texted her. Finally taking a break to check the message, she noticed how casual he had been – asking her about her day and trying to casually remind her of their pending conversation about pills and safe sex.

Kate felt her cheeks flush as if she were an inexperienced teenager attending a sex education class then.

Thank God Ryan and Esposito had just left the station.

Too drained and unexcited to discuss the subject of protection and contraception with Castle over the phone so late in the evening, Kate quickly typed out a reply on her phone telling him she was still at the precinct and would call him some other time, when she got the chance.

Soon after, her phone beeped with a new text from Rick – _"Of course. Until tomorrow."_

* * *

Only the following day – and the one after that – had Castle and Beckett not talking again, save the occasional text message to let the other know how busy they both were. The novelist had spent his time holed up in his office writing his last Storm book, while the detective had been immersed in her murder investigation.

No matter how busy he'd been, though, his time writing hadn't stopped Castle from missing Beckett. In fact, the more he wrote about her fictional version, the more he craved for the real life version. He wanted to see her, learn more about her, her fears, her desires… she intrigued him in a way no other woman had ever done.

And she also inspired him to write. She made it interesting again. She made it fun.

Castle was really enjoying all of this writing about "Detective [KB]". He already had a ton of images in his mind about what she was like, her intelligence, insights and haunting good looks…

She needed a story of her own, he decided. He would write an entire book just for her.

_Oh boy_, he stopped himself.

He _really_ needed to talk to Beckett about this.

* * *

"It's Friday night, Kiddo. Aren't you going out?"

Rick raised his eyes and found his mother, clad in her usual glitzy clothes, leaning against the office doorframe.

"I have to send Gina the final manuscript for my book by the end of the weekend."

"That's never stopped you before." She approached his desk, before questioning conspiratorially, "This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain female NYPD detective, now would it?"

Castle froze.

Did she know something about him and Kate? She certainly hadn't mentioned anything to that effect during breakfast the morning Beckett had had to sneak out of the loft or since. In fact, other than sharing how much she had enjoyed their poker night and how interesting and entertaining his police friends were, his mother hadn't even talked about that night at all.

"What? You mean Beckett?" he tried for indifference.

"Oh, come on now, Richard. Don't play coy."

Even though he was close to panicked, he hoped he was doing a good enough job of hiding it. "Mother, what are you talking about?"

"You are taken with the girl."

"What?!" he squeaked.

Okay, so maybe he wasn't doing the best job of playing it cool.

"Well, first you make a big deal of staying silent about your recent dates, despite the fact that you love gloating about your social life. Then there's the fact that you've suddenly made friends with a crew of police detectives, and that you attempted to play knight in shining armor for her –"

"Wha– Mother, when have I ever tried to do that?"

"Don't even bother denying it. I checked your cards that night – you let her win."

Uh-oh. _Busted_.

"That doesn't mean anything, okay?" he said after a moment. "I was just being nice. I didn't want to take her money in front of all her friends."

"Mm-hmm," Martha hummed noncommittally, as she nodded in disbelief. "Listen, Darling. Kate Beckett does not seem to be some bimbo who needs big, strong you to look out for her. She strikes me as a real woman, and a real woman does not want to be patronized," she lectured her son.

"Yeah, she's already chewed my head off for that one," he admitted absentmindedly.

"Oh, so you've spoken to her since?" she smirked.

Whoops. Busted _again_.

"Does that Jedi mind-tricking thing pass down genetically? Because I want that," Rick deflected, at the same time silently conceding that she was right.

Martha's smirk stayed on her lips for a few seconds before it morphed into a soft smile. "All I can say is I'm impressed, Richard."

"Impressed?"

"Yes. Kate Beckett is a bright, classy woman."

He smiled affectionately at the thought of the brunette. "She is."

Martha's smile turned pleased then. "Well, Darling, I don't think I've ever seen you this much in love with a woman."

Her sentence immediately got his attention. "Whoa, hang on. Love? Mother, I'm not –"

"Save it, Richard," The redhead interrupted him. "You're not fooling me here."

Castle slumped against his chair and pondered his mother's words. Was he actually in love with Kate?

He knew it was soon, but he had admittedly fallen in love faster than that in the past – he had also gotten burned in the past precisely for that reason. And even if he had fallen for women at the speed of light, he had also fallen _out_ of love just as quickly.

He had to admit it, though. He didn't think he had ever felt this strongly about any other woman in his life.

His mother's voice brought him out of his reverie. "If you're not ready to admit it to me, at least be honest with yourself, Darling."

He stared into the older woman's eyes. "I don't…" he paused. "I can't stop thinking about her."

Martha beamed. "Just follow your heart, Kiddo."

He smiled fondly at his mother, silently thanking her for her words. Before she had a chance to leave the room, though, he spoke up. "Mother? Please be discreet about this."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Kate and I are still trying to figure out how everything will work out and she's not ready to –"

Pulling up a hand to stop him, the redhead cut in, "Say no more, Darling. I won't say a word about this to anyone."

"Not even to Alexis?"

"Not even Alexis."

"And especially not to Kate if she comes by?"

Looking up at the ceiling in frustration, she commented, "Really, Richard, who do you take me for?"

He smirked teasingly at his mother. "Please don't make me answer that."

Taking his nudge humorously, she waved at him dismissively before closing his office door.

Once again alone in the room, Castle's thoughts went back to the remarkable brunette he was falling in love with. He wanted – needed – to hear her voice.

Before he had a chance to pick up his phone, though, the device started ringing on its own.

His smile was blinding once he checked the caller ID and answered the call. "Kate? Hi."

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


	21. Chapter 21

_**A/N: No, your eyes are not playing tricks on you – this is, in fact, another update in less than a week. It's short (and unbeta'd), but I wanted to get this out since I'm not sure I'll be able to work on this story over the weekend.**_

_**By the way, I want to publicly wish a happy belated birthday to supermandy77, who turned one year dirtier this past Tuesday :) I had a special chapter in store for this occasion, but Beckett was being very opinionated, so I had to deal with some other things before I could work on what I have planned. Dear Mandy: since I'm not sure you would enjoy having this of all chapters dedicated to you, I'm just going promise you that, eventually, your chapter will come.**_

* * *

_PREVIOUSLY:_

_Once again alone in the room, Castle's thoughts went back to the remarkable brunette he was falling in love with. He wanted – needed – to hear her voice._

_Before he had a chance to pick up his phone, though, the device started ringing on its own._

_His smile was blinding once he checked the called ID and answered the call. "Kate? Hi."_

* * *

"Hey, Castle," she greeted, somehow managing to sound both excited and tired with just two words. "I'm sorry I haven't got a chance to call you sooner."

Promptly, he cut in, "Don't worry about it. I'm glad you called now." He smiled, eager to talk to her and thrilled at the thought that maybe she felt the same way. Aiming for small talk, he added in a conversational tone, "Actually, I've been quite busy myself."

"Right, with your writing," she acknowledged. "How's it going?"

"Pretty well, yeah. I think I'll even manage to submit it to my publisher in time." _Thanks to you_, he added in his head.

Before he had a chance to touch the subject of using her as a muse, though, Beckett chuckled. "Yeah, meeting a deadline definitely sounds like something worth celebrating," she teased him.

"You make fun of me now, but soon enough you'll realize I miss most of my deadlines."

"Is that so? I wonder how you still get published," she pondered sarcastically.

"I'm Black Pawn's golden goose," he argued immediately. "World-renowned, best-selling author right here, you know."

"Oh, _that's_ how," she quipped.

Despite her sardonic comment, Beckett couldn't keep herself from feeling a bit overwhelmed. It still amazed her that she'd met – and was actually involved with – her favorite mystery novelist.

This past month she'd been getting to know him served to show to Kate that Castle was very down to Earth when it came to his fame and fortune, and nothing like the arrogant, self centered man he seemed to be when he first consulted with her a few months before. Of course, there was no doubt in her mind that Rick Castle was still an immature, conceited, annoying man at times, but somehow she accepted that part of his personality as a piece of what made up the great man he was slowly proving himself to be.

_Wow… could I be any more taken with the guy?_

The question she mutely posed to herself put a smile on her face at first, but then she caught herself.

Her growing feelings for this man both amazed and frightened her.

"You still there, Kate?"

"Uh, yeah, still here," she replied to his tentative question in a daze. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About?" he prodded.

Covering for the thought that was actually on her mind, she jested, "How you seem to believe that you're much more of a celebrity than you actually are."

He chuckled. "Come on, now, Beckett. I know you're just saying that to hide the fact that inside you're still squealing because you're in a relationship with your favorite author."

Oh, the nerve!

"You couldn't be further from the truth," she told him. He couldn't be _closer_ to the truth, though.

The smirk in his voice was clear when he said, "If you say so…"

See? Still _so_ conceited.

Damn him for being so endearing.

"Are you home?" his voice boomed on the line.

"No, I'm still at the precinct."

All signs of mockery vacated Rick's voice, laced then only with honest curiosity and interest. "Still no luck solving your case?"

"Not even close," she confessed. "I mean, I'm certain that we've got the guy. I just don't have the evidence to back up my instincts."

"I'm sure you and the boys will find something."

"We'd better. The worst thing with this case is, if we can't stop him, I know he's going to do it again," Beckett vented her concerns to the novelist.

After a beat spent deciding on how to word what he wanted to say, Castle spoke. "You'll catch him. All you need is a breakthrough. Which is why you called me, really."

Okay… apparently, he was on to her.

Kate held her breath, waiting for his juvenile bragging to begin.

And brag he did. "You were frustrated, and, in order to feel better, you decided to call me for my charming personality and deep, captivating voice."

Oh, he thought…?

She smirked. "That's so not the case, Castle."

"Really? So why did you call me then?" he asked her, smugly, so certain that Kate was calling him because she missed him.

The detective's smirk fell and she winced. Maybe it _was_ better to have him think she just missed him, after all.

But of course she wasn't so lucky.

Soon enough Castle figured out Kate's reasons for calling him. "Wait. You called to ask for my help with your case, didn't you?"

Damn it.

"No," her denial rolled unconvincingly off her tongue.

Rick latched on to her discomfort and boasted, "Yes, you did! You wanted my insight on your case!" Self-satisfied, he marveled, "I've actually become a consultant for New York's finest."

Beckett really wished she could knock that self-gratifying smirk he was sure to have on his lips right then.

Deciding to make lemonade out of the lemons in her life – currently, her humiliation –, she went on and asked him, "Well, _consultant_, do you have wild theories for me? Any counsels at all?"

He was silent for a small while before confessing dejectedly, "Nope. Got nothing."

Disappointed, she droned, "A hell of a consultant, you are."

"Give me time, Detective. I might have a brilliant epiphany at any moment."

"I'll be sure to _not_ hold my breath for that."

Even though they couldn't see each other over the phone line, Beckett and Castle knew they both were smiling to themselves, the companionable silence that fell between the pair evidence that they both were enjoying how effortless their banter went.

After a while, Rick spoke on a sigh, "I wish I didn't have to focus on writing right now; then I could ask you to come over."

"All the same," Kate told him, probably sounding just as disappointed. "I'd have to decline since I want to go over all the evidence we have so far. Maybe something pops out, I don't know."

Emboldened by the fact that her only objection to his invitation seemed to be work, he tried again. "I have to deliver my final manuscript to Black Pawn by Sunday evening. Maybe you could come over then?"

She hesitated. "On Sunday?"

"Yeah," he confirmed easily, trying to ignore the hitch in her voice.

"I, uh… I can't," was all Kate said after a beat.

Rick couldn't help but think back to earlier in the week when Kate had teasingly told him (or so he hoped) that admitting to being in a relationship did not mean she was agreeing to an exclusive relationship.

"Why? You have a date or something?" He really hoped his tone sounded as nonchalant and playful to her as he was going for in his mind.

But of course she could hear the lingering anxiety in his tone. Not wanting him to question their status, she took a deep breath and told him, "I know I'm not the easiest person to be involved with, or even simply to get to know. But when I'm with someone, I'm 100% with that person. No room for anyone else, Rick."

Her assurance found its way to Castle's heart and mind. "Okay." He smiled into the phone. "So, to be sure, we're committed?" he couldn't help but ask. "Because I didn't know if we were exclusive or not, and…"

At his words, Kate's heart sank. "Why, did you…" she started to form the question, interrupting the man's ramblings, but lost her voice together with her courage. Unable to ask what was on her mind, she braced herself and tried a different approach. "I mean, if you want to go out with other women–"

Castle heard her timid words and quickly caught on to what was on her mind. Hoping to clear up any misunderstandings and reassure her, he confessed, "I haven't gone out with anyone else, Kate. Nor do I want to. I just wasn't sure if _you_ wanted to be exclusive."

It was Kate's turn to smile then. "I'm committed, Castle. As surreal as this is, I'm willing to give us a chance. An _exclusive_ chance."

She sounded so certain and, as far as he could tell, uncharacteristically open about this – _them_ – that he couldn't keep his beaming smile from traveling through the phone line when he told her, "Me too."

"Good," she agreed, feeling like a girl with her first crush.

After a moment of silence, Castle resumed their conversation. "Anyway, why can't you come over on Sunday?"

The uneasiness instantly returned to her heart. "I'm meeting my dad for dinner," she told him, hoping he wouldn't ask any further questions on the matter.

Surprisingly, all he said was a chirpy "That's great, Kate!"

After Beckett had told him about Jim overcoming his struggle with alcohol, Castle had come to realize – even more so than he already knew – how important it was to have a father and to make sure you both could count on each other.

He was honestly happy for her – so much that it didn't even occur to him to question why she was meeting him on Sunday evening. He didn't even try to invite himself to her dinner date with her father either.

All of which made her feel even worse about omitting the fact that her dinner plans with her dad involved celebrating her upcoming birthday.

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)**_


End file.
